Twisted Dimensions
by Discovercat
Summary: AU  The war with Voldemort has gone wrong, so Hermione goes back in time and space in order to keep the world from ending. Unfortunately for her, though the faces are familiar, the world she is to save is nothing like the one she left behind.
1. Prologue

A/N: This plot bunny would not leave me alone.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

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><p>It had come to this.<p>

Hermione accepted the stone from Albus, keeping her hand steady with effort and holding it as firmly as she could considering the state of her fingers. She looked neither right nor left where she knew her family stood surrounded by the same symbols and markings that she was. Ron's breathing was heavy, but at least he wasn't giggling. Harry made no noise but she could feel his presence next to her, as steady and strong as it had been all these years.

Across from her, a woman with short red hair, a tall man with one arm, and an emaciated man with scars riddling his face and neck, mirrored her position. The youngest Weasley's face was serene for once, with acceptance filled eyes. Neville's eyes were closed but he held himself proudly, he had never let his handicap bring him down. Remus's brown eyes were the only thing still recognizable about him with the same determination that had seen him through two wars.

If Hermione turned her head she knew she would see the others, the last members left of an organization that had at one point been hundreds strong. Now there were nine and soon there would be none.

"Any last words?" Albus asked and Hermione could almost see him as he once was, strong and larger than life with an ever present twinkle in his eye as he hinted that it was all going according to plan.

It hadn't been going according to his plan though, and that was why he leaned on a knobby staff that was wider than his arms and legs, his hair and beard scraggly, filthy, and uneven. Only one of his brilliant blue eyes remained in his wrinkled face and while part of his mouth was firm, the other side of it gaped open showing bone from where the skin had never fully healed.

She shook her head in response to his question and saw Neville do so as well. Ginny and Remus just stared at Albus as Harry and Ron were. They had already said their goodbyes.

"Then let this commence." Albus raised his hand and lightening streaked down and hit his staff. The staff glowed blue as the lightening arced around it and through it into the ground. Symbols were illuminated as the energy traveled outwards in a circle from her old Headmaster until the ones that she was standing on top of glowed. The stone in her hand began to pulse.

The Headmaster chanted the spell in the language of the First, the un-aptly named third race of spellcasters who had walked this earth. Blood trickled out of her ears and her only eye as the power washed over her and she could feel her bones creaking under the pressure.

She smiled as much as she was able to considering the mass of scar tissue that was her face. This was simply par for the course.

"Do you accept this?" Albus was still chanting the spell but she heard his voice as clear as crystal.

"Yes." She said. There was no other choice and she had done worse things. She had done much worse things with a smile on her face, a real smile.

"Then so mote it be." It was Albus's voice, and yet it wasn't. It was all voices in all languages speaking at the same time through a conductor.

Her vision blurred as the glow brightened but her other senses were fine and though she couldn't see Albus's bones breaking, she could hear them snapping, she couldn't see his skin burning but she could both hear and smell the sizzling flesh. She was well acquainted with the scent of burnt human.

Albus had known he wouldn't survive this. It was only a gamble that they would. That was why there were all there. With all that was at stake, even if the rest of them failed, one of them would not.

Ron swallowed.

Harry took a deep breath.

And she relaxed, this pain would be nothing compared to what had come before, especially not when she knew what the results would be.

There was a horrible ripping noise and her eardrums exploded. The stone burned in her palm. Someone was screaming, someone male. Her body felt like it was being torn into a million pieces and a laugh bubbled in her throat.

And then there was darkness.

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><p>AN: Hope everyone enjoys this. And to anyone reading this who is also reading my other fics: I have not forgotten them and will be updating them soon.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, not mine is.

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

Hermione came to herself slowly. No pain, that registered first, then her survival instincts kicked in born from too many situations where waking up without knowing what was going on around you could be fatal.

It smelled clean. Not of ozone or rotting flesh like everything use to. There was no one else in the room, she didn't hear breathing or heartbeats or any movement at all. That was a good sign. She was wearing clothes, a cotton nightgown it felt like, and there was both a heavy ring on her left hand and a necklace around her neck. What ever she was lying on was soft, so soft that it made her previous ideas of the concept of soft seem like she enjoyed lying on rocks.

A bed, she was in a bed.

She grinned. It had been years since she'd slept in a bed or even laid in one. She reached out with her hands and grasped the mattress, allowing herself this one luxury. As she did so, something pulled in her arm.

Her eyes opened and her heart skipped a beat. The room was white, sterilized hospital white, and there was a needle in her arm.

She panicked as images of a different hospital room with a different needle in her arm came to mind. Her magic lashed out, aiming to destroy the thing that she viewed as her enemy and both the needle and IV and the bedside table and lamp exploded. Everything else left her mind except for one thing: she had to get out before they returned.

The debris pelted the room and a shard of the lamp sliced her cheek. Hermione glimpsed a wand on the ledge in front of the window in between several large bouquets and plants. She thought Accio and when she reached out, the wand settled into her hand and it was hers. After so long. It was the comfort of the wand in her grip, the feel of her magic flowing into it, waiting for her command, that snapped her out of her memories.

There was nothing to be afraid of. They hadn't taken it away from her.

She curled into the fetal position and hugged herself. The softness of the bed and her pillows offered no distractions as she rocked. Her mission out of her head, she probably would have rocked until someone came in, had a shooting pain not distracted her.

Her finger, the one with the ring on it, began to throb. It couldn't compete with the pain in her head at first until it began to feel like all her fingers on her left hand were being torn off.

Hermione uncurled and held her hand out. Despite the pain, she moved each finger, marveling at the fact that they were all there. It even looked a bit weird to her, five fingers complete from knuckle to nail. She put her other hand to compare them; it too had five full functional fingers.

By now, her left hand was having spasms, each finger contorting as fire seemed to flow through her nerve endings. Hermione was just happy to have nerves in her hands again.

However, she had to focus.

The ring was ornate, gold in color with different jewels and masterful craftsmanship forming a crest. It was also changing before her eyes. The metal was moving as if it was a liquid, forming designs and patterns each more complex than the next and the gems in the metal were moving with it and evolving. Hermione did not know much about jewels beyond the best ones to use in certain spells but she could tell that they were changing and becoming rarer, more powerful. She was able to pick out a few runes and symbols being inscribed when she noticed that there was a pattern to each gems' evolution.

As soon as the metal stopped flowing and gems rotated in a set pattern, the pain stopped. The ring still would not budge off her finger.

She frowned. It was clearly a pureblood family signet ring so why was it on her finger? Had they gotten the person wrong when they'd done the spell? That had been the only part that they were completely sure about. She was supposed to be herself.

Hermione picked up her wand and conjured a mirror, no words, no spell, just intent. (It was sooo good to have her own wand back.) The mirror hovered in front of her and she took a deep breath before staring in it.

The face that stared back made her blink. It was younger than she had been by several years, a teenager instead of a young woman. She definitely recognized the wide brown eyes of the image; they were hers and there were two of them again. She had noted that when she first woke up, but seeing them reflected made it more real. She vaguely recognized the bone structure; before she had never looked beyond her scarred over eye socket and the rest of the marks on her face. The hair was completely unrecognizable; it fell to her shoulders in loose waves instead of springing out in uncontrollable frizzy curls down her back.

Hermione ran her hand over the smooth strands and swallowed back a sensation that she had not felt in some time. It did no good and in a few seconds, tears flowed down her cheeks, over smooth cheeks, even down her unblemished neck.

She didn't know whether they were tears of happiness that the first part of the mission was successful, that she was her younger self, or tears of sadness that all of the trials and successes and experiences that she had worn proudly were gone. What she did know was that it had to stop, that she could only afford this weakness once.

Minutes, hours, she sat in her bed wrestling with the weakness leaking from her eyes. But she won the battle, as she had to, Scourgified her face, and then set about finding out who exactly the Hermione Granger was in this dimension because this was clearly not the same one that she'd grown up in.

Her first hint after the signet ring was the crowd of flowers and candy around her room. All of the bouquets were professionally done with flashing banners wishing for her to get well soon and all of the candy was the imported pricey kind, the kind that she had used to dream about buying once upon a time but never acted on it because one box was the same price as several books. At no point in her life would she have received even a third of these expensive arrangements or candy; the only one of her friends who could afford it was Harry and the thought to do it would never cross his mind.

Not only was Hermione some sort of pureblood, she was one with rich friends. And as Hermione took in the room with more awake and aware eyes, she recognized it as one of the private rooms in St. Mungos, the type that you had to spend a lot of galleons in order to be in.

She summoned a bright yellow card to her. 'I miss you!' scrolled across it flashing from yellow to black. 'Hugs & Kisses, Pansy' was signed at the bottom.

Pansy? Her eyebrows rose. She was going to have to do some serious acting if she was friends with the blonde in this dimension. A memory flashed in her mind, of a petite woman with flowing red-stained blonde hair and a skin mask covering the bottom half of her face cackling as she declared her interest in Ginny's untouched face. Hermione couldn't remember whether or not it had been her who had killed her; eventually she stopped keeping track.

She was brought out of her musings when she felt someone approaching rapidly. Hermione slid her wand hand under the cover and out of sight and laid back against the pillows. The memories of this life were supposed to be here, but something had gone wrong so she was going to have to wing it and hope that this Hermione's personality had been something like hers, and hope that she remembered what hers had been like before all the war and death.

The person entered without knocking, a stocky middle aged witch with salt and pepper hair wearing green Healer's robes, her eyes on the scroll in her hand. She shut the door absently, muttering to herself, then jumped a foot when she saw Hermione watching her from the bed.

"Ms. Castell?" The Healer gasped. "You're awake!"

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from mocking the other witch and marked down her estimation of the galleons used to buy this room. If this witch hadn't come in because they'd sensed that Hermione was awake, then they must not have superior monitoring spells. And since when did a magical hospital use IVs?

"Yes," Hermione said after a few moments when it seemed that the Healer would be content to simply gawk at her.

That snapped the woman out of her haze and she pulled her wand and ran a few diagnostics spells over Hermione. "We weren't expecting you to wake so soon. When you didn't do so immediately, well, we thought… but you're awake now and all of your vitals seem fine."

Hermione had to concentrate to allow the magic of the diagnostic spells to reach her. Even in this new place, her first instinct was to shield and strike out. And she hoped that this was not her primary Healer. The witch hadn't even asked what had happened to the IV or desk.

"Seem?" She asked. "Are my vitals likely to change drastically as a result of whatever put me here?"

The woman blinked at her question as if taken aback. "Well, I don't know, your case is a little unprecedented."

"Unprecedented how?" That didn't sound good. What had this version of herself been doing to end up here? "Was I in a coma?"

"You don't remember?"

Hermione bit her lip to keep her sarcastic 'clearly,' inside. "No. That's why I asked."

"Right." The Healer chuckled. "Yes, you were in a coma for about six weeks."

The curly haired witch nodded. Six weeks? Had that been as a result of her occupying this body or had it happened beforehand?

"How did it happen?"

"I think its best if you asked your parents that when they come in." The Healer said. "I don't have the exact details."

Of course she didn't, that would have made her useful.

"When will they be here?" Hermione hoped that those memories came in soon or she was about to feign amnesia.

The witch looked at the scroll. "Your mother was here earlier this morning and I think she planned on coming in tonight. You're lucky to have such dedicated parents. She's been here everyday since you came in and stays four to five hours."

"And my father?" Hermione noticed that he had not been mentioned.

"He's been here too." The witch's eyes softened and she patted Hermione's hand. "But he's a busy man and he let your mother come."

'Let her mother come?' Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please do not let her have come into an ultra sexist patriarchal society; the mission would end after she got thrown in Azkaban. Ron, Susan, and Neville had mentioned that wizarding society was not as caught up to muggles when it came to sexual equality but wizards no longer had dominion over their wives as chattel.

"Are you okay?" The witch felt her forehead and Hermione felt magic wash over her, another diagnostic spell.

"I'm fine." Hermione opened her eyes and gave the witch a small smile. "I just thought that my father might have visited more than once."

"He sent his love through your mother." The Healer patted her hand again.

Hermione nodded; she had been fishing with that comment, but it had paid off. So she had a doting mother and an indifferent father, it seemed. She didn't really care, but idly felt bad for this Hermione if she was in the hospital for six weeks and her father had only visited her once.

"But don't worry," the Healer reassured as she went over to a cupboard and pulled out three blue bottles. "Your brother came to visit whenever he could. You know how hard it is with the war, but he was able to make it. Your father is one of the higher ups so it was more difficult."

"I have a brother?" Hermione could have Avada'd herself after the question slipped from her mouth, but she had not counted on being some sort of pureblood or having a sibling. The first she could deal with, might even help her if pureblood families here were as distant with each other as they were back home, but a sibling would be closer, would know things and personality traits that detached parents wouldn't.

The Healer stopped short. "You don't remember your brother?" She asked slowly.

"No." She had to go the amnesia route now. It was either that or Obliviate the woman and she didn't want to take the chance of removing something important.

"That's curious. All of your mind scans were normal." The woman tapped her chin as she observed her. "Is there anything else you don't remember?"

"My parents' names. What I was doing to end up here." Hermione cocked her head to the side as she sorted through options. "And the war."

Her body, she judged, was only about fifteen to sixteen years old, the war had been going on strong when she was this age back home, bad enough that Healers did not have time to sit around and chat with a convalescing coma patient. The Healers would have checked her out, given her potions, owled who she wanted to come get her, and then hustled off to someone who really needed them.

The Healer frowned. "That's not a good sign. I'll have to get a specialist in here." She moved to put the potions down and she noticed the destroyed table for the first time. "What happened here?" She repaired the table and lamp and put the potions down.

Hermione gave her best sheepish look. "I was looking for my wand."

"Your wand?" The Healer's brow furrowed and she glanced to where Hermione's wand had been.

"I Accio'd it." Hermione brought the wand out from under the covers.

"_You_ accio'd it wandlessly?"

"Yes." Hermione was inexplicably insulted at the way the Healer phrased that question. Was she a weak witch or should she be drained of magic because of her injury? "Should I not have been able to?" She twirled her wand in her hand, still reacquainting herself with her one of her most prized possessions.

"No, its not that, its…" The Healer's eyes widened as she watched Hermione's hand. "Merlin."

"What?" Hermione stopped twirling the wand and brought her hand down, but the Healer grabbed it before she could return it under the covers.

The other witch traced Hermione's ring with her finger. "I can't believe this."

"Believe what?" The curly haired witch pulled her hand away and tried to pull the ring off again. It still wouldn't budge. "It hurt horribly after I accio'd my wand. I thought my finger would fall off. And now it won't come off."

"Why would you want it off?" The Healer asked, before backing away with awe in her eyes. "It's the female heiress ring, granting you full access to everything in your family only surpassed by the Head of family. I have to inform Lord and Lady Castell now."

She practically ran out of the room, her green robes rippling, leaving Hermione alone with a few bottles of unidentified potions.

Hermione frowned. She had heard of Family rings, but had never researched them because her time had been better spent on defensive and offensive magic that would keep her and her friends alive. She also wondered how many Death Eaters she was dealing with this time. If she had any luck at all, the Ministry would have lifted the ban on Unforgivables, so she wouldn't have use any of her more creative spells to get rid of Riddle's followers. If her luck was the absolute best, Albus would have realized his master plan was useless, destroyed more than one horocrux by himself, and actually trained Harry and the rest of her generation so they wouldn't be just cannon fodder.

Either that, or she could always just track Voldemort down and incapacitate him before he gained more power and help Harry along so he could finally destroy the evil incarnate.

Her hair crackled as her temper rose as she thought about the thing that had destroyed her life, her world, and possibly the universe if left unchecked. But she would not let the snake man win. She would destroy him and his powerbase.

Sparks leaped through her hair and Hermione reveled in the feeling. This was who she was. A witch, a powerful one, and she would not be making any excuses for it. She had learned that lesson with each new scar, each dead friend and acquaintance.

She felt the Healer approaching her again with another person and calmed herself. The sparks left her hair, but it was definitely bigger than it had been, in perfect ringlets now but not as sleek.

"I owled your parents," the Healer greeted her. She pointed to the wizard who'd come in behind her. "This is Healer Dremson, he's a Mind Specialist."

Hermione inclined her head at him. "And, excuse me, but who are you?" She asked the witch.

The female Healer gaped. "You don't know? Well, you do have memory loss..." She trailed off and Hermione was grateful for the control training she'd been forced to do in order to come here. Otherwise she would have already tortured the information out of the witch and killed her; it was more merciful to kill outright than leave them for dead.

Healer Dremson rolled his eyes. "And you still have not answered her."

"Oh!" She smiled apologetically at Hermione. "I'm Healer Abernoth. Edna Abernoth, I've been your Healer ever since you became part of the family."

"I'm adopted?" Hermione was guessing she was. She could not see any possible dimension where her parents were anything but Muggle dentists.

"Yes," Healer Abernoth said. "As part of the muggleborn clause to the Orphan Act. Any magical child who is without parents or legal guardians is to be placed with either a magical relative or guardian."

Hermione bit her tongue. Her parents were dead? There was an Orphan Act? One part of her thought that it was a brilliant idea because it meant Harry had never had to endure the Dursley's here. The other part of her recognized the prejudice against muggles inherent in it. She had aunts and uncles who would have gladly taken her in had her parents died, ones who'd tried to stay in contact with her even as she spent most of her time at her 'private' boarding school. It wasn't fair to deprive a child of their heritage just because you didn't appreciate what it was.

"Edna, perhaps it would be best to let her parents fill in the rest." Healer Dremson gave her a reassuring smile. "Ms. Castell, Hermione, I'm going to do a few tests just to check a few things. You might feel a strange sensation in your head. Don't worry, it's normal."

He wanted to mess around in her head? Hermione tamped down her instinctive denial at the idea and allowed his spells to penetrate her head and do their job although she was constantly vigilant for even a hint of prying or tampering.

The wizard lowered his wand a few minutes later and wiped off the sweat that trickled down his forehead. "You have strong mental walls for someone your age." He summoned some water and took a sip.

Hermione was annoyed that she had woken up from a coma and no one had offered her anything to drink or eat. It was supposed to be hospital protocol; she'd read the procedure book back when she was trying to decide what she wanted her career to be.

"But there has definitely been severe mental trauma. The link between your present memories, the ones you're making now, and the ones before your coma is almost non-existent. I'm not sure that it will ever fully heal."

That was wonderful. Hermione kept the smile from her face. She had a medically proved reason for not remembering anything and she would definitely exploit the hell out of it, especially to explain any personality traits she had that the Hermione of this dimension didn't.

She schooled her face into one of shock. It was difficult, Ron had always been the best actor and then Harry. "So my memories won't come back? But how come I remember my wand and my name then?"

"Like I said, there is still a tenuous link and that allows you to remember things about yourself. That you're a witch, your wand, your name. You probably remember your favorite food and color too. Memories with a direct connection to yourself." Healer Dremson explained.

"Then why not my parents? Why don't I remember this ring?" Hermione held her hand up so he could see it, grabbing her wand in her other hand; she could duel effortlessly with either hand, but she preferred using her main hand.

Healer Dremson had a similar reaction to his colleague; his eyes widened and his mouth gaped like a fish's. "Is that?"

"Yes it is." Healer Abernoth gazed at it. "I've already informed her parents, so they should be here at any time."

"What is so special about this?" Hermione asked. "Don't all pureblood families have similar rings?" All the noble ones did at least, and the ones that could trace their lineage back to one of the previous spell-casting races.

"No." Healer Dremson shook his head. "Not all pureblood families have rings like that and not all purebloods with rings like that have a ring like yours."

That really told Hermione nothing, but she was getting the idea that she wouldn't be getting anything of substance from these two Healers.

"Fine," her voice took on the bossy tone that her boys had always teased her about. "Then tell me more about this mental trauma. Can you tell what caused it?"

He was silent while he gathered his thoughts. Hermione was about to Legilimens him to find out what he knew, when he spoke. "I know a little of the accident and I think it was caused by the amount of magic that channeled through you. You have severe mental scars because of it. You're lucky that only your memories are affected."

It sounded like this coma had not been caused by her arrival here. "Will my ability to do magic be affected?" That was the most important question. She could still remember everything from her dimension, so there were no worries there.

"No." He answered. "Healer Abernoth informed me that you'd already done some magic and if it worked for you, you have nothing to worry about."

"The state of the ring on your finger means that you have nothing to worry about." Healer Abernoth said.

Hermione wished that she'd had the time to read more about pureblood signet rings. The closest she'd come to had been the Slytherin family ring but her only concern about that had been destroying the horocrux it was, not researching the ring itself for its meaning to the Slytherin bloodline.

She was trying to find a way to ask about the war when she felt two magic signatures moving towards her room quickly. Both signatures were steady and marked by similar magic, but one was larger and edged with shadows, gray or dark magic. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand and relaxed her body, ready for action.

"Do you have any more questions?" Healer Dremson asked as the door burst open.

A tall attractive wizard strode into the room with all of the cool aplomb of Lucius Malfoy at his most aloof. His black robes were tailored to a fit body and the same crest on her ring was on the right breast. Long dark brown hair fell past his wide shoulders and sharp hazel eyes examined her, starting at her face and ending at her ring finger. Those eyes widened at the sight of her ring and under a patrician nose, soft lips curved slightly.

"Daughter," this wizard had a clear tenor voice. "You have woken up better than before."

"Father." Hermione just managed to not bare her teeth at her father in this dimension who hit every warning signal she had for prejudiced pureblood git.

"Oh, don't start that, Apollonius." A rich alto with hint of an accent said from behind him.

Hermione blinked. Apollonius? Really? This family was definitely one of the most noble or most pure or whatever they wanted to call themselves. Only families who claimed those monikers gave their children names like 'Apollonius'.

The other newcomer was a pretty witch, only a few inches shorter than her husband, with tan skin, black hair in perfect ringlets, and smiling dark eyes. Her full mouth was stretched in a beautiful smile. "Hermione, babina."

The woman pushed past her husband and pulled Hermione into a hug. Hermione froze.

"Mother," Hermione cautiously put her arms around the older witch and squeezed back. She couldn't even remember the last time someone had hugged her out of delight when seeing her. They didn't have time for useless things like that. There was only the nod that you were still alive, maybe a quip or two, and then questions about what the next move was going to be, whether it dealt with fighting back or survival.

"I'm so happy," the other witch said. "I didn't know what I was going to do without my precious girl."

"We were both worried." Apollonius had moved closer and he was studying her ring with undisguised glee. "Very worried…"

His wife pulled back and kissed Hermione on both cheeks, then shot him a look. "Come give your daughter a hug."

Hermione did not want that man to hug her, and he stiffened, but he still stepped next to the bed, leaned down after his wife moved out of the way, and hugged her. This hug didn't hold all of the warmth of the previous one, but it wasn't as cold as Hermione had expected it to be. Her father pulled back after exactly ten seconds and grasped her left hand.

"I never expected this." He said. "I hoped that you would at least manifest something, but this is beyond my wildest desires." His smile would put a crocodile to shame. "Two heir levels acknowledged by the family."

Her mother glared at him. "Pity our daughter almost died for it."

He compared his own ring to Hermione's and although his was larger and held a few more flourishes and gems, they were almost the same. "Pity." His voice held no regret at all.

Hermione was beginning to think that he had something to do with what had landed her in a coma. She pulled her hand out of his.

The other witch harrumphed and crossed her legs, hands together tightly in her lap. She looked she wanted to hit her husband. "Yes. This is wonderful but I would have preferred that-"

"Carmina, what's done is done and it has yielded wonderful results." Apollonius snapped. "We can discuss this later if you wish to. Now we need to concentrate on making sure Hermione gets the best treatment and is home as soon as possible."

The two Healers quaked under his demanding gaze.

"Well?" He asked. "How is my daughter?"

Healer Abernoth looked at Dremson and he motioned that she could start. She took a deep breath. "Physically, she's fine. The IV and rehabilitation spells on her ensured that there will be no physical conditioning necessary. She could walk out now. But we want to keep her overnight just in case."

"Physically?" Her mother asked.

"Physically," Healer Dremson took over the explanation. "Mentally, however, is a different story. She has extensive scarring as a result of the accident which has resulted in partial amnesia."

Carmina gasped and hugged Hermione to her.

Apollonius crossed his arms. "Partial amnesia?"

"Hermione," Healer Dremson began in a soft tone that she knew was purely for her parents' benefit. "Do you know your parents are?"

"No." Hermione answered, then looked at the couple staring in shock at her, Carmina covered her mouth and Apollonius's eyes had widened slightly. "I only knew because of the way you addressed me."

Her mother hugged her tighter. "But you can feel our connection can't you? That's why you hugged me! You can feel our connection."

"Yes." That seemed to be the safest answer. She didn't elaborate because she wasn't sure she could say she felt anything positive for her father here with a straight face.

"What does she remember?" Apollonius was watching her closely.

"Things directly connected to her. Her name, her wand, that's she's a witch." Healer Dremson ticked each thing off with a finger. "I haven't carried out any deeper tests, so I can't tell the extent but I can tell you that the scarring is permanent and its more than likely that she won't recover her memories."

Carmina swayed and Hermione and Apollonius both held her up. "My babina will never remember me again?"

"Not any of the older memories." Dremson said. "But she knows you're her mother and she can make new ones."

"And they'll be safe as long as she stays away from you and your helpful friends!" Carmina hissed at her husband before breaking into rapid-fire Spanish.

Apollonius flushed. "It was only this one time and it will never happen again."

Carmina shrugged his hand off of her. "If you value your life as a man, it won't."

Hermione kept the shock off her face. So her mother seemed to really love her and care about her. She hoped that this wouldn't lead to excessive smothering. Also… her father in this dimension _had_ done something to her. Why?

"Carmina!" Apollonius swallowed, his dusky complexion pale. "This is not the place."

"I am just laying out the facts, mi amore." Carmina said. She turned her attention back to the Healers', expression even more intense than her husband's. "What else must be done? Does she need to do more tests?"

Dremson nervously adjusted his collar. "She just needs the further day of observation. Any more tests are completely optional as they might do more harm than good. She has strong mental walls and to get through them might make the scarring worse."

Or fry your mind. Hermione finished for him.

"Might?" Apollonius asked. "You are not sure of this?"

"I'm more of a generalized Mind Healer. I can examine and diagnose a wide range of simple issues, but scarring of her scale is beyond my capabilities. You can hire Mind Healer specializing in Backlash and Spell Damage if you want to know more." Dremson said.

"I will do so." Her father gave Hermione a speculative look. "So she does not remember anything beyond this day?"

"I know some basic facts about the wizarding world and all the basics skills, so you don't have to worry about re-teaching me how to walk or eat." Hermione said; she had gotten tired of being spoken over.

"She could have forgotten that?" Once again, the question was not addressed to her.

"Yes." Dremson nodded. "Memory is a fickle thing and we don't realize how much of our actions are a result of our memories."

"Fascinating," Apollonius said absently. He was looking at the wand that Hermione still had in her hand.

"Yes, yes. It's very interesting." Carmina said. "But Hermione won't forget anything else, will she?"

"No. She was in a coma because her mind was healing so while she might remember, very unlikely, she will not forget anything else baring further accident."

"Which will not happen." Carmina's eyes were on her husband.

"Of course not." He agreed.

"Unless she gets caught in an attack." Edna said cheerfully.

Hermione's parents stared at her.

"Which is highly unlikely!" The Healer witch said quickly. "They've been keeping most of their attacks in Central Europe recently anyway."

Apollonius frowned at the woman. "That is true, but even if we were under siege, my daughter would be nowhere near the crossfire."

Not if she could help it, Hermione thought, her whole point here was to get in the crossfire in order to stop it once and for all before it reached the level it was in her dimension.

"Hermione isn't even involved heavily in the Order." Her mother continued. "Things like that are beyond her."

What? This Hermione wasn't involved in this Order of the Phoenix? Was she a moron?

"I understand." Healer Abernoth smiled at Hermione. "Some women are too delicate."

"What?" There was no way Hermione was letting that stand. "Too delicate?"

Carmina laughed and rubbed her arm. "Don't worry, darling. You're still my babina."

Hermione wanted to throw up. Apollonius looked like he shared her sentiment. "She's not a child anymore, Carmina. And she has strength."

"She's always had strength." The witch snapped. "You just never saw it. She is not the same as Ares. She's a witch."

"Ares?" These names were the wizarding world at their worst. "Is that my brother?"

Her mother's voice softened. "Yes, darling, he's your brother. He's missed you so. If he wasn't away on a mission, he'd be here."

"And he'd be proud." Her father added.

Hermione cleared her throat and pretended to wipe tears, keeping her eyes down so they couldn't tell the tears were nonexistent. That was the extent of her acting ability. She was supposed to be a poor girl, saddened by the loss of her memories and comforted by the thought of family. Not a battle-hardened woman calculating the best ways to escape her family in order to carry out an assassination and mass homicide.

"So will your grandparents." Carmina laid her head on top of Hermione's. "So don't worry. We'll help you through it. And so will your friends. They sent you so many beautiful flowers and candy."

"I see." Hermione trudged up a smile. "I hope I'll remember some of them." And she hoped that Pansy was the exception and not the rule.

"I'm sure you will." Carmina said.

"You won't." Healer Dremson interrupted. "If you don't remember them now, you won't later. I know that much."

Apollonius's lips took on a cruel tilt. "It's good that you know something."

Dremson gulped and wiped his forehead.

Hermione wondered how long visiting hours were.

* * *

><p>AN: Please R&R!

Up Next: Hermione goes home with the Castells and finds a snag in her plans.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm back.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, not mine is.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

Hours later, Hermione lay awake on the bed with her eyes closed and breathing even so anyone peering in would think she was asleep. Her parents, this dimension's Hermione's parents, had left twenty minutes earlier. Her mother had given her an effusive tearful goodbye as if she was afraid that Hermione would die the minute she left the room. Her father had put his hand on her head, said he was proud, and then left without a backwards glance. She still hadn't been able to pry anymore facts about the ring out of anyone.

Hermione, like everyone else who had been sent back, had a master plan. Kill Voldemort. Stop the end result. She had planned on waking up, getting her parents to safety via obliviation and passage to America, and then going on a murder spree until she had decimated the Death Eater ranks and Voldemort. She would convince Harry and Ron of the need for swift direct action, it probably wouldn't take too much convincing considering that they were always roaring to go forward and she had previously had to hold them back. They'd all go together, the Trio together in full health armed with the knowledge she would have given them and within the year, the Second War, the Reign of Voldemort, would be over without the massive death count and complete destruction that was in her world.

As she lay in her expensive private room, surrounded by expensive gifts, wearing a pureblood heir signet ring, with her own private Healer on call if she needed anything, Hermione could see that she had allowed herself to do some foolish childish dreaming.

She had been the one to remind the others that if they did end up in another dimension as well as back in time, that to think it would be exactly like the world they left was folly. People might exist in both worlds, but different worlds meant different stimuli which meant different reactions and different personalities.

Someone named Tracey had left a stack of Witch Weeklys and Cheeky Charms with her Swiss imported truffles. The note attached to it said, 'here's some heavy reading for you Mia.'

Witch Weekly and Cheeky Charms, two trashy magazines that Hermione had never picked up voluntarily in her life. The headline for one of the Cheeky Charms read 'seven moves to make your wizard's wand explode!' while one of the articles from Witch Weekly promised to tell her 'why his Bogart is your mother.'

Hermione wanted to groan. She was in a dimension where people expected her to read and enjoy this garbage. The lack of real reading material among her gifts led her to believe that they would be surprised if she ever stepped foot in the library. The witch who one of her friends had said 'Get well, and don't worry, your hair still looks perfect,' to, was not one who gave off big thinking vibes. Why the hell would she care about her hair while she was in a coma? And when she was out, wouldn't her focus be more on happiness that she was awake and not that, Merlin forbid, she had a strand out of place while she was unconscious?

She sighed. A part of her knew she was complaining because she could. She could lie here, motionless without a perimeter or an alarm set and not worry about an attack. She could spare these thoughts instead of worrying when her next meal would be or what it would be.

But just because this was a softer place, it did not mean that she could let down her guard. She would be going to live with a father who had purposely done something that had put her into a coma and felt no remorse about it. And the war was going on. Just not as intensely as it had been going on when she was this age in her own world. So she would maintain this mental scarring cover, find out more about this place, and then enact her plan.

Her lips curved and her hair crackled as she imagined how she would make her enemies suffer before she killed them.

The Castell mansion was not what she had expected. Large with foreboding gothic architecture, the house was intimidating as the long winding driveway that their carriage had drove down. The house was smaller than the Malfoy Manor and Lestrange Court, but only by a little. It and the grounds were beautiful though they felt more like fine art to Hermione than home.

However, the thing that had surprised her was the fact that she recognized the brickwork and lattice in the windows. That the mer-people lounging on the rocks in the lake next to the house called up a memory and suddenly she knew exactly who the Castells were.

Eons ago during her second year, after Draco Malfoy had introduced her to wizarding prejudice, she'd researched all the pureblood families to see exactly how many more there were than muggleborns and half-blood, because she knew what happened when societies' didn't introduce new blood, hemophilia and European royalty was a perfect example of that. During her research, she'd come across several families that had died out as a direct result of Voldemort. For a wizard who claimed to value pureblood supremacy over everything else, he certainly had no problem killing them. One of the exterminated families had been the Castells.

A picture of their ancient home and grounds had been next to their story. Apollonius had refused to join the Death Eaters and he had been marked for assassination. The first attempt by the Lestranges and Dolohov had failed when Carmina came home early and almost killed Rodolphus. The second time, the Lestranges brought Dolohov and two others. The Castells had taken out the two others but they and their only son were killed. Hermione had remembered their story because it mentioned that mer-people lived in their lake and that they were one of the few families with an alliance with them.

"Does it meet your approval?" Apollonius asked as he opened the front door for her.

The room she stepped into had a marble floor and Roman columns along the walls. It opened into three corridors, one went straight and the other two left and right.

"Yes." Hermione had been surprised when he'd come with Carmina, but either he had some sort of agenda that required her liking him or she was reading him wrong and he did love his daughter.

"Good, darling." Carmina took her arm and pulled her along. "I'll give you a tour to get you reacquainted and then we can have tea."

"Don't run the girl ragged." Apollonius warned as he walked left down the hall.

"I won't." Carmina sniffed as she led Hermione straight.

The columns continued with pictures of witches and wizards sharing various features with Apollonius in between them. They passed two doors and then walked into a huge room, dominated by a staircase out of a Cinderella movie and a large crystal chandelier.

"This is the front room."

Carmina pulled her from room to room, giving her a little anecdote to go with each one. Hermione paid more attention to the layout, the two story library, and made sure to memorize how to reach the halls that took her to the exits. The tour ended with the family section where each family member had their own wing. Hermione's wing was on the third floor next to her brother's wing. Her parents were on the second floor.

As they walked through the six rooms in Hermione's wing, Carmina tried to trigger Hermione's memory. Her bedroom was bigger than her first floor had been in her previous house with a king-size bed, two walk-in closets bigger than her old room, a balcony, and large fully stocked boudoir. Her bathroom was bigger than the prefect's one at Hogwarts with both a bathtub she could swim in and a shower with multiple heads and so many toiletries she could stock a French boutique. Her mini library was in a pathetic state with only a few school books and a lot of the same trashy magazines that she had been sent at the hospital. The other two rooms were a sitting room, a half lab half recreation room, and a sun room.

The part of Hermione not marveling over the fact that she had her own freaking sun room was already selecting which books she would be stocking her library with. Her own private library! She could forgive a lot of people who had given her own library. It was her third biggest room and it had floor to ceiling bookcases along the walls, three bookcases in the middle of the room and both a table and two comfy chairs next to the only wall with windows. The entire ceiling was enchanted to look like a clear sunny sky. Hermione could stay there forever and it was perfect for research and studying.

"So what do you think?" Carmina brought her out of her thoughts.

"I love it." Hermione answered honestly. "I can't wait to go back to the library."

Carmina blinked. "The library?"

Hermione nodded. "It doesn't have much in it, but can I bring books in from the family library, or should I buy my own?"

Carmina blinked again. "You want to buy books for your library? You?"

Hermione didn't just want, she was going to, but it would be easier if she had permission since she wouldn't have to start off using magic against her guardians. She also didn't like the disbelief in the other witch's voice.

"Yes, I would like to buy books for my library."

"Your magazine subscriptions still stand. All of the magazines that you missed are already in the library."

"That's nice." Hermione would be canceling them as soon as possible. "But I want books. It looks so barren in there right now."

Her mother looked back at the room. "I guess it isn't the most aesthetically pleasing. But if you want to make it prettier, just go get some out of the main library. No need to waste money. You haven't seen the spring collection yet. Madame Malkins and Myrtle have outdone themselves this year."

Hermione knew when to pick her battles. She wasn't going to win this one. "So I can bring books in here?"

"Don't bring in anything from the highlighted sections, you know how your father gets about those books, and make sure that it isn't anything being used for research for the war effort. But, yes. Your brother does it all the time."

She could tell. His library had been full from books on Quidditch to experimental theories on defensive spells. She wanted hers to be full too.

"Ok. I'll get to that then." She said.

"Good." Her mother made no move to leave.

Hermione shuffled and reminded herself that Imperio was still unforgivable here and in situations where it could be avoided. Anticipation was shooting through her veins and it hurt to be standing here uselessly when she could finally act.

"Did you want something?" She asked.

"Oh, no. Do you want to go shopping later?" Carmina laughed as she started walking down the hall. Finally. "What am I saying? Of course you want to go shopping later. I'll owl a few of your friends. Pansy maybe? And Daphne, definitely. Don't worry, I'll send an elf when its time to go." She left the wing before Hermione could tell her that she had no desire to go shopping for anything that was not books.

It only took Hermione one try to get to the main library; that was one route that she had made sure to memorize. The first section she aimed for was history. She found the shelves of wizarding history from 1960-1980 and skimmed for books about the first Voldemort war. None of the titles mentioned anything about Voldemort, You-know-who, he-who-must-not-be-named, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, or the Death Eaters, there weren't even any titles that had allusions to any of these names.

Hermione frowned. In her dimension, each of the key words she was looking for had hundreds of books about them. Before the destruction of all non-Voldemort approved reading material, there were enough books to fill a library of this size. She searched for books about Tom Riddle and once again turned up nothing. The only war that the titles mentioned was the one against Gellert Grindelwald. A sinking suspicion filled her.

She picked up a book titled 'The Two Opposing Sides for the Greater Good: Grindelwald's Never-ending War'. An attractive man with long blond hair, bright green eyes, and full pink lips, winked and posed on the cover. He held a familiar wand and had a familiar symbol on his robes.

The elder wand and the symbol for the Deathly Hallows. Albus's greatest flaws, his misdirection plan that had killed so many…

The summary of the book promised her that this book knew why Dumbledore had been unable to kill his former friend and the ways that their different approaches to betterment of wizardingkind had kept this war going on for over forty years.

She dropped the book, then called it back to her hand before it hit the ground. This was not happening. She sunk to the ground.

Grindelwald? The war this Hermione's father and brother were fighting was against Grindelwald? A wizard who had been rotting in Nurmengard prison for thirty years by the time she was born? One who hadn't achieved a fraction of the terror and horror that Tom Riddle had? That Grindelwald?

Hermione rubbed her forehead. This was not supposed to happen. Who was the threat in this world then? Was Tom Riddle even alive here? Or did she need to kill Grindelwald? Or both of them? The many possibilities made her head spin.

"First things first," she tucked the book securely under her arm, stood up, and headed up the row. "I need to go to the 1930-1940s section."

Two hours later, her library ninety books heavier, mind still spinning under the repercussions of what she'd uncovered, Hermione opened her closets, glanced in both, and couldn't wait to hit the clothing stores.

As if sensing her mood, gathering energy was her warning before an elf popped in. "Mistress is ready to shop. She is waiting in the foyer."

O O O

Wizarding London was not the same. Instead of just two streets, there was an entire section like a Chinatown and people lived there. Diagon Alley was still the entrance from muggle London, Carmina informed her when she asked after they flooed to Tom's pub. There were floo entrances in here and outside as well and they were set up so everyone who flooed from the same location came out of the same exit.

There were more people there too. Hermione didn't know if it seemed like that to her because most people were dead in her world, but she swore that it was twice as crowded as it would be the days before Hogwarts started and her mother had glanced out in the crowd and said "Thank goodness, there aren't a lot of people out today." And the clothing was more wide-ranging than she'd ever seen it with robes cut in styles from around the world, American robes with their popped collars, Ethiopian robes with their slit sleeves, Russian robes with their fur edges. The colors were even more varied, aqua, violet, pink, black, maroon, chocolate, neon green, every color under the rainbow.

She had to keep from gawking like a child.

The people were diverse too. Skin colors of all shades were present, and English was not the only language being spoken and it was often spoken with an accent. A burly golden skinned wizard with tilted brown eyes nodded at her mother as they passed. A slender dark-skinned witch with full red lips mouthed 'owl me' when she saw Hermione and Carmina. Carmina smiled as she mouthed 'I will' back. An almost translucent woman with strawberry-blonde hair waved at them.

By the time they reached Madam Malkins, Hermione had seen at least twenty of her mother's acquaintances. The store was not in the place she remembered it being in. It was in the shopping district in the fashion section. Madame Malkin's store was bigger than before with moving mannequins showing her latest designs in the large window. And it was right across the street from an equally populated clothing store, 'Myrtle's'.

"Here we are." Carmina smiled at Hermione. "I had her hold the latest stuff from Milan and Timbuktu for you."

"Thanks." Hermione was outwardly calm; inwardly she was wondering when Timbuktu became a staple of the fashion industry.

The doors opened before they reached them and an older witch wearing (what Hermione assumed were) stylish orange robes and a burnt orange lace hat greeted them with a huge smile on her face. "Ladies Castell," she exchanged kisses on the cheek with each of them. "Welcome again. Are you here to browse or do you want to see what you have on hold?"

Carmina patted Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione has been sick for while, so I'm sure she'd prefer to browse to see what she's missed. Then we'll look at the items on hold."

"I heard that she'd been sick and I am very glad that she's all better. Go browse darling, there have been one or two things that I know you'll love." Madame Malkins winked at Hermione. "Anything for two of my favorite customers."

"Of course," Carmina smiled at her and led Hermione to a corner of brightly colored Italian and English cut robes. "Isn't this lovely?"

"Hmm." Hermione said noncommittally while pretending to be interested a rose colored robe set from Cavel. A lot of the robes in her closet were from Cavel. Maybe if she just bought a few of these, this torture would be over? Her stomach lurched at the thought though. She might joke but this was nothing like real torture.

"Those are pretty, but I think you already have a set like them." Carmina observed.

Hermione knew this. The set she had in her closet was bright yellow; she was never wearing them, this set might have a chance at seeing the outside of her closest.

"Just look around, Pansy and Daphne should be here soon and they'll help you keep from getting anything twice." Carmina smiled and made a beeline for a display of Italian robes from Coco.

Hermione sighed. At this rate she was going to get nothing done. She couldn't do anything until she researched more on the End Result and the divergences between dimensions, but she would rather be researching that than be surrounded by giggling witches here. There was no nostalgia to be had because the Madame Malkin's in her world was a pile of rubble.

Someone motioned to get past her and she moved out of the way. She glanced around the store again. If she had to be here, she might as well get something she would actually wear. The light blue robes she was currently wearing was one of three robes that she would leave the house in. The others were all too bright for Hermione. She wanted dark neutral colors that would make sneaking around and espionage easier, not violently bright colors that made her ill if she stared at them too long. All of the witches and wizards in here were just walking bull's-eyes to her mind. The colors made it ridiculously easy to target them.

Her wand slipped into her hand from the sheath she'd made for her wrist. If she threw a few harmless spells around, maybe a few stinging hexes or babbling curses, only at the worst offenders, she would only be doing them a favor by showing them the flaws of their robes. She could almost hear Harry in her ear, sneering at the gangly witch in the neon green lacy robes… " _Just a quick hex, Hermione, a simple one. It could save her life. Make her bleed just a little bit so she'll remember it later." His normally cold green eyes were warm now, warm as they always were at the thought of helping anyone in any way despite the mocking way he went about it. _

Hermione took a deep breath and put her wand up. She was not in the other world any more. That was not the Harry that she would know here. She picked up chocolate robes pinstriped with pink. They were cut similarly to robes she already owned, not too low in the front, fitted at the waist, and the skirt would cover her ankles but it wouldn't trip her if she needed to run.

"Going for the mature look, Mia?" Pansy Parkinson's energy was so different in this dimension that she didn't feel like the same person. But her voice was still grating and girlish.

"Why not?" Hermione turned to the blonde witch. "Only a year away from my majority."

Pansy smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Her light blue eyes were happier than they'd been at her age in the other dimension, though her nose was the same. The girl would never be beautiful, but she could do cute and attractive as she was doing now.

"I'll be reaching mine first, so maybe I should be doing that?" Pansy picked up pink robes with chocolate pinstripes and held them against her. "What do you think?"

The other girl was almost a foot shorter than Hermione, who was a few inches shy of six feet, with a more athletic build. On Hermione, the robes would look like they did on the model; on Pansy, they would look like a clown's outfit.

Hermione tapped her chin while she tried to think of the most tactful way to tell Pansy not to try it. "I don't think they're quite your style." She settled on; not enough cleavage showing and no one else's face to steal and wear, her mind spitefully added.

"Really?" Pansy looked down at herself. "You don't think they make me look taller?"

Hermione snorted. "No."

Pansy's face fell. "Oh." She put the robes back. "I'm such an elf that nothing can make me look taller."

There was a beat of silence as Hermione tried to figure out what Pansy wanted with that statement. There was a reason that her best friends had been boys and the past few years had not given her any chance to improve her social skills.

"You just need to find the right thing." Hermione finally said. "I don't think that this particular cut is your friend, just like if I tried on those patchwork Otombo robes over there I'd look like a demented cow."

Pansy stared at her in shock, giggled, then covered her mouth quickly. "Sorry."

Okay. This was weird. "Why? It was meant to be funny."

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Castell?" The energy of the witch who'd been leaning against the wall next to them was also different from her counterpart. Her looks were the same: same café au lait skin color, same black hair, same light brown eyes, and same height although she seemed shorter since Hermione was taller in this dimension. Hermione didn't know about her voice; Daphne had lost hers early in the war.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm still Hermione. I just have partial amnesia."

The two witches gasped.

Daphne's light brown eyes were wide. "I was kidding. You have amnesia?"

"Yes." Why did people insist on repeating things? Was she not clear the first time? "So forgive me if I don't remember everything about you two. I actually have no memories from before I woke up at St. Mungo's, mother didn't tell you?"

"No, Lady Castell said you had a surprise but I didn't think this would be it." Pansy was fanning herself as if she was in danger of passing out. "You don't remember anything? How is that partial?"

"I still know my name, that I'm a witch, how to talk, and vaguely who some people are. I recognize both of you, but that's about it." Hermione said.

"Will you remember more later?" Daphne looked at the way Hermione was standing and holding herself. "Your carriage and stance are different. So is the way you normally do your hair. And it doesn't look like you're wearing makeup."

"The Healers say that I'm not likely to remember anymore, that I should be happy that I woke up. And no, I'm not wearing makeup." Sadly, Hermione hadn't even been able to figure out how to apply it.

"Why not?" Pansy's expression suggested that she thought that not wearing makeup was equivalent to not putting on clothes. "How could you come outside like that?"

Hermione hoped this dimension's Hermione had kept a diary because she wanted to know what type of person could befriend someone with an outlook on life like that.

"Easily. One foot in front of the other."

"But, did you not put on a bra either?"

"Pansy," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Not everyone has your same priorities."

The blonde witch gave her a pointed look. "_Hermione_ though? Magical Mia? Hexingly beautiful Hermione? Charming Castell? _Her_ walk out of her house without makeup? Is the world ending?"

Daphne considered this and glanced at Hermione. "She does have a point. Did it affect your personality too?"

"Maybe," yes! Hermione wanted to shout. Yes, it did. But she had to keep her cool and keep her cover. "After we finish up here, do you want to get ice cream or something? Then check out Flourish and Blotts?"

Daphne did a double take. "Flourish and Blotts? The book store? Merlin, your personality has been affected."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Does this mean you don't want to go with me?"

"No," the dark-skinned witch shrugged. "It's just different."

"Is this permanent?" Pansy asked, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't another one of your sick jokes is it? Get our hopes up and then dash them again?"

"Get your hopes up for what? That I'm not a fashion crazed witch?" This was getting ridiculous. "Because how does that make any sense?"

"It makes as much sense as the other things you've done." Pansy spit.

"Pansy!" Daphne put her hand on the other girl's arm. "She's telling the truth. We would have noticed if Tracey or Lavender were here."

Hermione gave up. This was just wasting her time. "I don't know why you guys think I would joke about something this serious. I'll go over there while you continue to discuss it. Let me know when you reach a conclusion." She stalked over to another set of agreeable robes.

She could hear them whispering behind her, no doubt trying to decide whether or not she was messing with them. Once again she wondered exactly who this Hermione had been. Someone who like mind games apparently. She rolled her eyes and examined a set of coal black Italian robes that would be perfect for stealthy actions. And where were the congratulations on getting better? At this time in her old dimension, her friends would have been all over her with hugs and well wishes. These two girls had done neither and they were supposed to be two of her best friends? Her estimation of this dimension's Hermione went down.

"Hermione," Pansy said from behind her. "I'm sorry. It's just too close to what happened last time. I overreacted."

"Oh," Hermione draped the coal black robes over her arm. "You do realize that I have no idea what happened last time."

"Sorry." Daphne had come around to the side of the clothing rack. "You look the same so it's hard to remember that you don't well… remember."

"Ha." Hermione ushered up a small ironic smile. "It's hard too to see so many things that seem familiar but that I can't associate anything with besides mild feelings."

Pansy moved so she was facing both of them. "So what feelings do you associate with us?"

Disgust. Sadness. Rage.

"Friendship." Hermione lied through her teeth. Even after everything she and Daphne had gone through together before her death, they'd never been friends.

And Pansy… _Blond hair dripping with blood, the skin stretched over her face under her eyes not matching the rest of her and horrified recognition of it, Fred screaming in denial…_

The blonde witch smiled tentatively, hope shining in her eyes. "That's good." She reached over and hugged Hermione.

Hermione stiffened but forced herself to relax when Daphne joined in.

"I missed you so much." Daphne said. "We've had to deal with Tracey and Lavender and those Beauxbaton tarts by ourselves."

"You won't even believe how hard Leblanc has been going after your wizard _and_ your brother. It's really disgusting." Pansy pulled back with a grin. "Neither of them will give her a second glance."

Daphne gave her a last squeeze then moved back too. "She's not the only one. But the Durmstrang witches at least understand the idea of give and take. These Beauxbaton 'our uniforms our blue and therefore more feminine than yours' girls think that since Delacour got Weasley, its open season on all available English wizards."

"But you should see them if one of us even looks twice at any of their guys." Pansy crossed her arms. "It's disgusting."

There were so many questions that this little exchange brought to mind; none of them had to do with why Hermione cared if who was dating who.

"We're working closely with students from other schools?" She asked.

Daphne nodded. "So you do remember that there are other schools? And I'm guessing that you must remember Hogwarts too then?"

"Yes. Just don't ask me anything too specific like what my classes were." Hermione knew that at this time in her dimension, she had been taking as many classes as she could while fighting in the war. It had only been going on for two years and as horrific as they had been, she'd still had hope that it would end soon and that her classes and NEWTs would mean something. But then Albus, that brilliant, powerful, useless idiot…

"Do you remember subject material?" Pansy asked. "It would suck to have to start all over and be stuck with the first years."

"Yes, I remember spells and things. Probably because they relate to me knowing I'm a witch." Hermione's real problem would be toning down her spells in front of others. This place's Hermione and even who she had been at this time in her own timeline would have never imagined that they'd be capable of what she was. In her timeline, that pesky hope had been accompanied by a naivety and justice that had taken a while to be killed off but die it had.

She looked at her hands and was surprised to see them as clean and dry instead of sticky and red.

"You okay though?" Daphne saw too much in this dimension too apparently. Her hazel eyes were understanding. "I know we're joking, but it must be tough."

"You two have no idea." Hermione chuckled bitterly. "But enough about that. Lets finish shopping and you guys can fill me in on what I've missed since I've been gone."

"Fine." Pansy visibly relaxed. "You are going to want to flip when you hear what Tracey and Philippe have gotten up to."

Daphne gave her another considering look. "I suppose we can oblige your interest. And Pansy's right. I almost went for my wand."

Hermione had only an inkling of who Tracey was (she vaguely remembered there being a Tracey Davis with her at Hogwarts who was killed early on) and no idea about this Philippe, but she smiled and feigned interest.

For the next hour while they shopped and Hermione built a wardrobe more suiting to her tastes, Pansy and Daphne got her up to speed on the Hogwarts' grapevine. She learned who was cheating on who with who and who was trying to get with who and who had gotten into trouble with who for doing what along with possible explanations for the reasoning behind everything. Her mind spun as she struggled to memorize names, events, her relationship with, and the relative importance of everything. She especially keyed onto anything that mentioned the war which wasn't much.

The only time they acknowledged that there was a war going on was when they mentioned a war council or someone going on a mission or getting chosen for research. Apparently Daphne had been chosen for something because of her charms work and Pansy might for her potions, but they had assured among much giggling that she needn't worry about being chosen for anything with the implication being that it wasn't because she had just come out of a coma either.

A part of Hermione had always detested being known as the bookworm and Snape had made her hate the 'know-it-all' title, but she'd prefer that than her so-called best friends laughing that she was so flighty that in the middle of a war where even talented third years were being called to serve in some manner; she didn't make the cut when almost all of their other friends did.

Besides her ire about that, the other thing that annoyed her was the way that they talked about the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students and even mentioned students from two other schools without mentioning why they were in such close contact. She understood that the war had undoubtedly changed things, but enough so that Hogwarts students were on such familiar bases with other schools? Exactly how were they meeting so much?

By the time Hermione had viewed the items saved for her, chosen two of them, and then made her purchase, she was tired of the Hogwarts gossip and ready for real information. They never answered any of her questions clearly and she had gone from wondering if they were just that obtuse to being annoyed that they were doing it on purpose.

Flourish and Blotts was only a few sections away and she almost skipped to the store, deciding to get ice cream afterwards. It was another store that she remembered destroyed although it had been razed to the ground, nothing to stand in testament of its existence except for a patch of burnt earth. Voldemort didn't want any knowledge given out except to those who he deemed worthy and like so many other things, to do so without his permission was a death sentence. The owners of Flourish and Blotts had not died peacefully.

The bookstore was larger that she remembered with three stories instead of two and sections that she didn't remember. Hermione ignored the strange looks that her friends gave her when a huge smile, the first real one she'd had in a long time, split her face as she walked in. She took a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful smell of parchment, paper, and ink, and went to explore.

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><p>AN: Sorry for the long wait. I was on vacation with spotty internet. Hope you liked Hermione's adventures in this strange yet familiar land. Please review!


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Lemon cupcakes: Hermione's definitely changing her image and you'll find her House affiliation in this chapter.

A-Beehive-of-Squirrels: I'm glad you love it and I hope you keep liking it. Romance isn't one of my focuses although it might sneak in at some point. This Hermione isn't looking for relationships.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

The first thing she did once she past the door was head to the history section. She grabbed books that would fill in the holes left by the books in her parents' library. Then she began gathering books that she had in the other dimension but didn't in this one.

_Hogwarts, a History: the Deluxe Edition_ was the first book she added. She had no qualms about buying the expensive version; if she could spend a thousand galleons on a set of robes, then she damned well could spend two hundred on a book. The more forbidden books, she left alone as she didn't have a good excuse for buying them yet. The others, she piled into the basket they'd given her.

She had lost her two friends somewhere in the history section and she didn't care. While Daphne had given her some good suggestions, Pansy had looked at her nails and complained about how bored she was. They'd only been in the store seven minutes at that point, something that didn't bode well for their future considering that Hermione planned to spend a lot of time in the library researching.

The bookstore had a lot of books on dimensional theories and timeline shifts but nothing that covered what she wanted about the End Result. She had dismissed the fifth book as useless when she felt the person staring at her. She didn't recognize the energy, only knowing that it was male, but that didn't mean anything in this new dimension. She didn't sense anything negative about the staring, but she did notice that it increased when another male came and joined the first wizard.

Hermione put the useless book back and tapped her chin, hefting the basket up on her shoulder. Then, while thanking Merlin for weightless charms, she took a step back and casually glanced in their direction as if she was looking for a book on their side. She recognized one of the wizards. Same dark hair, same blue eyes, same thin attractive face minus a few scars and an expression of mania, Theodore Nott, a wizard who had sometimes been on her side.

The other wizard was taller than Nott with light reddish-brown hair, bluish-grey eyes, and a handsome face. He was roughly the same age they were. She'd never seen him before but he reminded her fiercely of someone else.

Both of them had equal expressions of dumbfounded surprise. Nott even did a double take, looking from her face to the shelf of books next to her. The other wizard scratched his head, mouth opening and closing.

Hermione had a feeling that she knew why they were behaving this way and it pissed her off.

Nott found his voice first. "Hermione Castell? What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes and held up her basket. "I would think that would be obvious."

The other wizard came closer and peered into her basket. "Those are actual books." He made to take one out but Hermione backed up.

"Yes," Hermione wondered if this was karma for all the things she'd done wrong in the other dimension. She was probably obsessed with Divination here and a personal protégé of Trelawney too. "There are actual words in them even."

They both stopped and gave her sharp looks.

"But they aren't picture books." Nott had craned his neck so he could see them. "Can you read without pictures?"

Her eyes narrowed.

It was official. She was going to hex them, nothing too damaging, maybe switch their legs and arms or turn them into insects. Her sleeves were long enough that she slipped her wand into her hand without them noticing the movement. The words to a particularly nasty hex that would make them flies were in her mind when Daphne turned the corner and saved them both.

"Mia! We were wondering where you got off to." The witch glanced at the titles Hermione had been perusing and blinked. "Don't you think you should start off a lot smaller? You're even worse off than I thought if you don't even remember what subjects are taught at school."

Hermione wanted to throttle her, but she reminded herself of the functioning Ministry which meant Aurors which meant she couldn't curse people without proper provocation (even though she had no doubt that she could take any Auror without a problem).

"I already got the books for my classes," and had she been annoyed when a casual comment from Pansy had revealed that her school books weren't at school as she had thought, this world's Hermione just hadn't bought them all because she didn't think she needed them. "This was just for light reading."

The two wizards started laughing, almost hysterically. Daphne (curse her!) smiled as well. "Don't you think it's a bit much?" She asked.

"No. It seemed interesting." And there was a tone she hadn't heard from herself in quite some time, prim and proper.

The mystery wizard had stopped laughing and was now making a show of looking around for something. "Okay, Castell, you've had your fun. Where are Tracey and Lav? Pansy? I know they're here to get our reaction and let me tell you, I don't even mind one bit. I needed a good laugh."

Nott tried to say something but couldn't speak through his guffaws. Hermione pursed her lips; he had better never cross her alone in the dark.

"There's no joke." Pansy said when she saw that Hermione was sending them death glares. "Hermione's accidents had unexpected consequences."

"What? She can now read?" Nott gasped out and he and the other wizard burst into laughter once more.

"I could always read." Hermione bit out, before she took out her wand and cast itching hexes on both of them, strong itching hexes. Her wand was back up her sleeve within a few seconds of doing so and since Daphne was partially in front of her, she hadn't seen her move and they were laughing so hard that they hadn't either.

Laugh about that, Hermione thought as she grabbed a few books that seemed promising, dropped them into her basket, then turned and walked away as their laughter died and the scratching begun.

"Ignore them," Daphne followed. "Those two have always been slow but ever since they were cleared to go out into the field they've been impossible. But at least the rest of their gang wasn't there."

Hermione looked at her. "They have a gang? I recognized Nott, but who was the other boy?"

Daphne laughed and shook her head, the beads in her braids clanked. "They're part of the gang of guys who follow your brother, Malfoy, and Lestrange. And that idiot was Aidan Prewett."

Hermione blinked. It was clear she could take nothing for granted. Prewett, that meant that one or both of Molly Weasley's brothers were alive. Merlin, Hermione rubbed her head. She didn't even know if Molly was a Weasley! The way things were going Molly could be a Malfoy and married to Lucius.

"He's Ron Weasley's cousin?" That was a safe enough question. Ron should be one of her classmates and a pureblood so a fellow one should know who he was.

"Yes, Ron's mother is his aunt." Daphne confirmed.

She almost sighed in relief. So one of her best friends was here; she wanted to ask about Harry too, but there was no way to do so without it being extremely suspicious. She could only hope that something came up soon so she could broach the topic. Both of his parents were mentioned in the war efforts so she knew they'd been alive as recent as last year, but she didn't know their status now or any children they might have had.

"I'm guessing that we aren't close." Hermione stated, thinking about the mocking intent in his voice when he'd looked at her books. "He seemed rather unhinged about the idea of me reading."

Daphne bit her lip. "No, you guys aren't close but… Mia, even I'm surprised about the idea of you reading and we've been best friends since second year."

Hermione wanted to correct her, to scream that Hermione Granger was books and cleverness and knowledge and power and that her name was Her-my-knee and not Mia! But instead she sighed. "I guess I'm just going to have to get use to the reaction although you will have to get use to me to because the healers all told me that this_ is _me from now on."

Daphne gave her a one armed hug. "And I'll still be friends with you. We'll just have to relearn each other."

"Relearn what?" Pansy joined them, holding a book on healing potions and battle remedies.

"Each other." Daphne gestured for her to join them and she did.

"It'll be fun." Pansy giggled. It was no less grating than it had been in the other dimension and Hermione's first instinct was to look for the person being tortured.

"As touching as this display is, don't you think it would be wise to keep such emotional displays out of an establishment where others are trying to concentrate?" Hermione would recognize that cultured drawl anywhere, though the energy was off.

"Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy was as tall and blonde and pointy as he had been at this time in her own dimension. He even had the same fey beauty that only hinted at the devastating looks he'd grown into. The hint of madness was missing from his grey eyes though, that sign that Draco Malfoy was not mentally or emotionally prepared to be the Death Eater that his father and Master wanted him to be. His hair hadn't been the only thing bloodstained about him the last time she'd seen him; the man liked to bathe in the crimson fluid, literally.

He gave her the same once over she'd given him. "Hermione Castell. So you are awake. Pity, I did so enjoy having your brother focus. He didn't get any more injuries while cleaning up your messes either."

Her hands tightened at the all too familiar sneer his features settled in. She had to remember that her mission was more important than the pleasure that killing him would bring.

"And he won't get any more. I'll be sure to let him know how you feel though." Hermione tried to walk past him but he put an arm out to stop her.

"You wouldn't." His eyes met hers and she could see that he regretted what he'd said. He really didn't want her to tell her brother.

So she already had something over Malfoy? A sadistic smile, one that had graced her face many times in the last few years as the only thing to take joy in had been in others' pain, in her enemies' pain. "And why not?"

A vein in his neck ticked and his eyebrows rose at her smile. "Because he wouldn't believe you?"

"Wouldn't he?" The fact that he had stopped her and told her not to do it was enough to tell her that her brother would believe it in a heartbeat. "And he'd probably be angry too." Hermione was use to this with Malfoy, barbed words and implied threats to keep her friends alive. Give me what I want and I'll make your death quick. Don't, and I'll show you that death is a sweet release compared to what the body can endure.

Malfoy stared at her, tense. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Each word seemed ripped out of him as if she forced them from him with stabs.

Hermione cocked her head and leaned closer. "Excuse me, I didn't hear that. Care to repeat it?"

His pale grey orbs promised painful retribution. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." His words were clearer this time and everyone in the aisle heard them, including Nott and Prewett who had walked over, still scratching.

She had no doubt that he'd meant every single word of his earlier comment, but she'd let it go this time. She had no idea what the dynamic between her and her brother was, and she didn't want to mess with it right now.

"Apology accepted." She pushed past his arm and continued to the register without looking back though she could feel his eyes on her.

"Apparently new Hermione doesn't care about her man." Daphne said in a tone of awe. "I thought you were supposed to remember associated feelings? You've been pining after that wizard since you met him, longer than we've been friends."

Karma was a bitch. "Associated feelings don't cancel out the fact that he just said that he preferred me in a coma. Clearly old Hermione didn't recognize that sparks were only flying in one direction." Hermione said 'old Hermione' while making quotation marks with her hands.

"They're not just flying in one direction." Pansy informed her. "He's just confused is all. That's what you always say."

"Has he ever shown any positive emotion towards me?" Hermione asked. "Besides possibly glee when he heard about me being in a coma?"

Daphne fingered a braid. "He was in a good mood that day."

"You're right." Pansy nodded. "He was smiling when he gave us those tissues."

"Answer given." Hermione said. "So unless he has a personality change as well, don't expect me to go after him."

"So I can have him now?" Pansy asked too quickly. She blushed when Hermione and Daphne glanced at her. "I mean, now that Mia no longer wants him? I won't if you're not okay with it."

Hermione had never been in this situation, and she thought that it was gauche to want to go after a man who hated your best friend, but she'd never had close female friends that she'd talked about men with… and she was pretty sure that torture and death plans didn't count.

"Have fun." She said. "I don't want him."

The blonde witch gave Hermione that unsure look, like a deprived kid who'd been presented with everything she wanted but was still suspicious that it would be taken away at any moment. "Thanks."

It was Hermione's time to checkout and she welcomed the reprieve from having to continue that conversation. Though the clerk raised his eyebrows at the number of books that Hermione had purchased, he made no smart remark as she paid him and transferred them all to a weightless bottomless bag.

Daphne gave her a questioning glance when she saw the books continue to go into the bag without any noticeable bulges. Pansy was too busy making eyes at the cute older wizard in line behind them to notice.

"It's weightless," Hermione said to Daphne's unasked question. "I found this in my room." And she had.

"Yes, you never use to use it though." Daphne answered. She paid for her two books, one on defensive charms and the other on experimental broom charms. The black-haired witch had never explained exactly what the project she was working on was, but Hermione guessed that it had something to do with making defensive shields for broomsticks. If Daphne asked her for help, Hermione could give her four shield charms that were tailor made for broomsticks, one designed by her, one by Snape, and two by Susan Bones (there was another blonde witch who'd developed a taste for blood).

"I guess my sense of style has changed then." Hermione had taken this bag because it was the most neutral of all of them; it could either be an understated fancy purse or a simple regular bag. It was actually an improvement on the beaded purse.

"We've yet to see if it's for the better." Pansy shot before she paid for her own book.

Hermione shrugged. "If my sense of style is the worst change I have then I'll take it."

"So practical," Daphne teased as she pushed open the door.

"It's either that or start screaming."

The streets were even busier, to the point that they had to link arms to get across them without being separated. Her mother hadn't been kidding when she said that earlier it wasn't busy, and it must be like this often. Pansy and Daphne hadn't remarked on it, only said, "link up," and offered her their arms. Hermione hesitated before taking them, still not use to human contact, and flinched when she touched Pansy.

Hermione saw the same multicultural mix as before, though now she noticed the patrols. It wasn't obvious at first, she hadn't noticed it the first time at least, but a few witches and wizards with the same black robes and silver trim were moving through the crowd with purpose and ease, examining everything and everyone. They must be at a point where two patrols intersected because they nodded at each other, then turned and went back on the opposite side of the street, still watching for any hint of trouble.

"They're out in force today." Pansy leaned over and said.

"Must be another threat." Daphne commented. "High level too. Normally there's only one patrol here."

"Oh," Hermione filed that information away. "Is Diagon Alley attacked a lot?"

The two other witches looked at each other, then her.

"Not really," Daphne began. "Not full scale anyway. Recently."

"Recently?" That wasn't reassuring.

"Lots of smaller ones though, Grindelwald likes sending hit wizards to try to take out strategic places and people to cause chaos." Pansy shrugged.

"Was I caught in one?" Hermione asked.

The glance that the other two exchanged was loaded.

"No." Daphne said. "Let's get some ice cream."

"Ice cream? Wh-"

"Yeah, all that book shopping made me hungry. We've burned enough calories shopping that we can treat ourselves." Pansy pulled them in a new direction, chatting about how much she missed some seasonal flavor that only came during Christmas and couldn't be bought elsewhere for any amount.

Floreansceau's Ice Cream brought back nostalgia, eating with Harry and Ron, making plans with the twins, secret rendezvous with Zabini and MacCleggen. It was one of the last stores to fall since it offered no reason for Voldemort to take personal offense with it; Ollivander's had given mudbloods wands, Flourish and Blotts had given out knowledge that wasn't theirs to give, Madame Malkins had given mudbloods wizarding clothes. Voldemort hadn't cared what mudbloods ate. She shivered; other hungry things had made this their home and laid in wait…

Pansy did not stop talking when they walked into the store, neither did she stop when they bypassed the long line and went straight to the front.

"The line is back there." Some of her inherent traits were expressing themselves now that she was no longer operating in survival mode; a part of her was outraged at the thought of skipping in line.

The other witches just laughed. "We don't wait in line, Mia." Pansy said.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, when a younger copy of Florensceau came over to them with a smile on his face. "Hello Mademoiselles," his voice was cheery. "What may I get you on this fine day?"

"Hey David," Pansy tittered, fluttering her lashes. "I think I'll get my usual."

"Me too." Daphne smiled at him. "Extra sprinkles."

"Anything for my favorite customers," he winked. "And do mine eyes deceive me? Is this not the lovely Mystical Magical Melodious Mia? Say something so that I don't think that lack of your beauty has finally driven me mad!"

Really? _Really?_ Hermione only smiled because she was struggling not to laugh, hysterical laughter that would lead to rage. "I'm here in the flesh."

He grabbed his chest and mock stumbled. "My heart, it beats once more, my fair maiden. Anything you desire from me, anything! It is yours."

She ordered her favorite ice cream, vanilla with chocolate sprinkles and caramel sauce topped with whipped cream and a cherry, then smiled as her two friends laughed at the dramatic crestfallen expression on his face.

"One day, my love. You will come here for me." He turned and made their orders. When he came back, he gave them to them. "No price, the privilege of your company was enough."

"Thanks," Hermione said, still smiling despite herself. The people here? Idiots, all of them.

"Let's sit over there." Daphne pointed to a window seat, occupied by a group of wizards probably only a few years older than them.

"I got this." Pansy tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Mia, I'll show you what I've been working on since you've been gone."

The blonde witch sauntered over to the table, a swing in her hips. The wizards stopped their conversation and watched her. Hermione couldn't hear the conversation over the noise in the crowded parlor, but she could guess it from the wizards' pole-axed expressions and Pansy's smiling and eyelash batting. A minute later, the wizards got up and vacated the table, they scourgified it before they left and smiled at Hermione and Daphne as they passed.

"Not bad." Daphne commented as she sat down next to Pansy. Hermione took the chair across from them. "Still not as fast as Mia though."

"I know." Pansy took a bite of her sundae. "But I was only a few seconds short."

"I'm faster?" Hermione had never in her life before or during the war, used her feminine wiles successfully to get something. Before the war she would have just asked and during the war, torture and Legilimency worked quicker.

"Much." Daphne said. "You just bat your eyes and they do whatever you want."

"It's that simple." Pansy couldn't hide the jealousy in her voice or face.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I'll be doing much of that now. I was pretty impressed with Pansy."

Pansy's face brightened. "It was head tilt wasn't it? I got that idea from Lady Narcissa. The way you do it doesn't work for me but hers does."

"Yeah, sure." Narcissa Malfoy sounded like the same type of person as she was in the other dimension. "So are we close with Florensceau?"

"Him?" Daphne tapped her spoon on the edge of her bowl. "Not really. David's two years ahead of us. He graduated last year. But he's a terrible flirt and has always had a bit of crush on you."

"Should we tell him that he has a chance now that you've given up Malfoy?" Pansy asked.

"No thank you." The last thing Hermione needed was any romantic entanglements of any kind. Friends were fine as they were a good cover. She waved her hand. "Let's just forget about me and Malfoy okay? Permanently."

"Permane-" Daphne stopped, staring at her hand.

"What?" Pansy followed her gaze. The blonde witch's eyes widened. "Oh Morgana's Rusty Dagger."

Daphne grabbed her hand and pulled it so she and Pansy could examine the ring that Hermione had forgotten all about. Both the other witches were wearing rings though neither of theirs was as elaborate as hers. They looked at the ring from all directions and held their hands next hers for comparison.

"Heir level," the braided hair witch breathed. "You're an heir level."

"Are you sure about Draco?" Pansy asked. "Because your chances with him just improved by a thousand. You could probably bypass him completely if you show this to his father, you'd be married whether he wants to or not."

"And why would I want to bind myself to someone who hates me?" Hermione pulled her hand away.

"The Malfoys are one of the most influential families, even more so than any of ours. You and your kids would be in positions of power." Daphne said. "Lucius Malfoy is up there with Dumbledore, Potter, and R-"

"Draco's babies!" Pansy interrupted. "Do you need any more than that?"

"Yes, yes I do." She was happy that it was so loud in here; the way her luck was going, more people who knew her that she didn't know could be in here listening and go tell Malfoy that she wanted to marry him and have his children. "Like compatibility and love."

They looked at her, looked at each other, and then burst into laughter.

"Love," Daphne repeated, her shoulders shaking from mirth.

"Compatibility." Pansy laughed. "As long as my signature's compatible with his Gringotts's vault."

"Ha, ha, ha." Hermione's experience in the war had not killed her belief in compatibility or love. It was compatibility that allowed her to read her friends so quickly that they operated like a well oiled machine and kept each other alive. It was love that kept her and her friends going when so many others gave up, that made her break barriers that she didn't even know existed to do what it took to keep her friends alive, that allowed them to still look at her and touch her without disgust when she did so.

"Sorry," Daphne said when she finally calmed down.

"I'm not." Pansy swirled some strawberry ice cream in her spoon. "Hermione needed that wake up call real quick. Going after a bloke for love." She chuckled again.

"Who knows?" Hermione asked whimsically. "But back to the ring-"

"The ring, she says." Pansy stage whispered. "Like it's some prop instead of a marking of only the most powerful."

"Back to the ring," Hermione repeated. "Am I likely to get this reaction from everybody?"

Daphne snorted. "Yes. Had you shown it in Flourish and Blotts, your encounters with the guys would have gone very differently."

Great, more attention. Just what she didn't need. "I'll be keeping it under wraps then."

"Why?" Pansy paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "You need to be rubbing this in people's faces. Bimbos don't get rings like that."

"Am I not liked here?" Bimbo? Hermione wasn't even going to be surprised anymore. "Despite my skill in getting guys to give us tables?"

"You're liked," Daphne said. "By some, but not by all. Your attitude grates on some of our classmates who think we should all be hyper alarmed by the war. There was some prophecy or something about the 'end' and now they started making cracks on people who weren't as serious as them."

"A prophecy about the end?" Bingo. Hermione needed to hear that prophecy; it was why she was here. "That does sound kind of serious."

"I'm not saying that it isn't." The dark skinned witch dipped her spoon into her ice cream. "I'm just saying that we shouldn't be forced into overwork mode because of it."

"They target you too?"

"No." Daphne looked away. "Just you."

"We have assignments." Pansy piped up. "But since your talents don't run to anything needed, I mean, Grindelwald might be evil and all but the man can dress, so you couldn't mock his style and Dumbledore and Black designed very stylish robes for the Order so you couldn't even do anything for that. I did offer to let you stir for me but…"

"We'll just say that you near a potion equals disaster. Longbottom and Ernie try to help but…" Daphne trailed off.

"No one wants to be killed in a friendly cauldron explosion during a war." Pansy's giggle died when she glanced at Hermione.

Hermione's mind was having trouble processing. Her so bad at potions that she was getting help from Neville of all people at this age? She took a deep breath. Neville hadn't been so bad at Potions once the war got underway and he was no longer expected to brew them with Snape breathing down his neck, but still… She could brew circles around him with her eyes closed.

"I guess I'll be reviewing before I go to school then." Hermione ground out. She bit her cherry off and chewed it with relish. Real food still tasted heavenly and forbidden. It was hard to eat slow, to not shovel it down as fast as possible before there was an attack or someone tried to steal it. Hermione focused on that instead of the idea that common knowledge here was that she was a well-dressed incompetent bimbo.

"Not alone." Daphne said quickly. "Why don't you wait and we'll… get a professor to supervise you?"

"I'll consider it." Her potions skills must have been abysmal. "Speaking of school, what classes am I taking?" She didn't even dare to hope that it was anything useful. Her sixth year in the last time had been eventful and choppy but here she was probably remedial everything…

"Same as me, Defense, Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Transfiguration, Technomancy, all Newt level, and the two required courses, Muggle Studies and Life Skills." Daphne said.

"I have Astrology and Divination instead of Runes and Technomancy." Pansy added. "Besides that, we're in the same classes. Hufflepuff Ravenclaw mix mostly."

"We have classes with Hufflepuffs?" That was the same as the other dimension at least.

They gave her a strange look.

"No," Daphne said. "We are the Hufflepuffs. We have classes with the Ravenclaws."

That was right, incompetent bimbo Hermione didn't have the brains or drive to get into Ravenclaw… at least she was loyal. But the other two were a surprise. Pansy and Daphne, two girls who had practically embodied the best and worst of all Slytherin had to offer, were in Hufflepuff, the house of the hardworking and loyal?

"That's right." Hermione rubbed her head. "How did I get into Newt level Potions if I'm so bad at it? Shouldn't I be in remedial?" She'd think they had been exaggerating how bad she was if she hadn't seen the fear in Daphne's eyes at the thought of tutoring her.

"Your father." Pansy said. "He said he didn't care if you failed as long as you were in it. That's why you're in all the Newt classes."

Hermione hadn't thought her opinion on this Hermione could get worse; she was wrong. "Why would he do that? How can he do that? That must break a hundred school regulations."

"Because he wanted you in the same classes at Ares. The Slytherins have a few classes with us so he's in them and he does try to help you. He's the only reason you pass your classes." Pansy finished off the last of her sundae. "Ares is the perfect brother with a sister complex like you have no idea."

"Dumbledore allows it? The teachers allow it?" She ignored the description of her brother for now. It seemed that no one was sacred in this dimension. Not even Lucius Malfoy could have done this in her own world and he'd had the entire school board in his pocket.

Daphne shrugged. "Not only is your father a governor, he's also one of the Generals. The teachers might not like it, but exceptions are made for him."

"This seems like a big exception!" Malfoy might have a legitimate gripe with her here. "All of the safety risks I must pose, let alone the blatant favoritism." She shook her head.

"You aren't that bad." Daphne smirked. "And you'd get the favoritism no matter what considering Ares."

"What does that mean?"

"Like I said," Pansy chuckled. "Sister complex. Merlin help the teacher who doesn't give you proper treatment."

Lovely. Not only would the teachers resent her for being in her class unrightfully, they'd also dislike her for a cheerleader who constantly reminded them off that fact.

"I'm not even going to ask what he considers the proper treatment." She sighed and decided to leave it alone. While she might have gained them by illegal means, the important thing was that at least she would have challenging classes while here. "So we're the same age?" She had thought that he was a few years older than her the way her parents had talked.

"He's a week older than you." Daphne said.

"And one of the few wizards our age who Draco likes as opposes to uses." Pansy sighed dreamily. "And he is gorgeous and powerful and rich."

"With a sister complex." Daphne nudged her. "That is not to be underestimated. He went crazy after what happened. I heard that he went after your dad and some of the upper tier generals. He held his own too."

"He didn't leave your side for three weeks." Pansy continued. "It took your father, Draco's father, the Lestrange brothers, and the Black brothers to get him to leave. They had to charm your room so he couldn't stay in it longer than thirty minutes a day to keep him out."

Hermione knew her eyes were wide. "Do I need to be worried?" The last thing she needed was a wizard powerful enough to do all of that keeping a close eye on her. And did they need to keep repeating 'sister complex'?

"No," Pansy said at the same time Daphne said, "yes."

"Which one?"

"That's just the way he is," Pansy swirled her spoon in her empty bowl. "All six feet plus of him. Did I mention that you were currently matchmaking him with me?"

Daphne poked the blonde witch. "Stop lying. Mia, I'd be worried because he said that he wasn't ever going to let you out of his sight again. So who knows what kind of surveillance charm he's found by now."

"Lovely." Hermione took another bite of her ice cream which was still as firm as it had been when it was handed to her; she loved being a witch, she could take all the time she wanted and it wouldn't melt unless she wanted it to. "So I need to be on the look out for that."

"We'll help. And I wasn't lying about the matchmaking thing Daphne. Mia and I did talk about it." Pansy crossed her arms.

"What about Malfoy?" Daphne leaned her head on her hand. "I thought you called dibs on him."

"I like to keep my options open. You know that."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Daphne asked.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "You had best not say anything more."

Daphne mimed zipping her lips.

"Are you two always like this?" Hermione asked between bites of ice cream. Their interaction was different than what she was use to, between Harry and Ron, between anyone. She needed to be familiar with them if she was going to acclimate herself enough in this world in order to do this without bringing suspicion to herself.

"Only by ourselves. Usually with you, we just sit and listen to you talk about whatever fashion you're obsessed with. Its nice to get to be myself around you for once without getting my head ripped off or having to worry about revenge." Pansy answered automatically, then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did." The dimension traveler forced a smile. She wasn't use to a candid Pansy, but it was obvious that the girl had been telling the truth. "I wasn't the best friend obviously. Hopefully I'll treat you better from now on."

Daphne nodded, head still resting on her hand. "I have a feeling that you will."

* * *

><p>AN: Hermione's adventures continue. Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: It's been a while, but I'm still here. Thanks to those who reviewed. Hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

After they left the ice cream parlor, Daphne and Pansy insisted that she have some more fun. Hermione refused to go into another clothing store, so they decided to drag her to another one of their approved places.

She should have realized when she saw Technomancy as a subject that the wizarding world here was very different.

Perfect Purchases was essentially a wizarding electronics store. The window had TVs the size that she'd never seen in muggle world in her own dimension and lap top computers. When they walked in, she almost gaped at the display of phones against the wall. Phones more advanced than what she'd left behind; the cell phones were almost as thin as paper.

Pansy smiled at her. "Gaudy huh? They show that muggles can be innovative, but really they're just muggle more expensive version of a mirror."

Daphne nodded. "Plus, mirrors are harder to trace or track."

"Ah," Hermione said. Mirrors? She wondered as she continued examining the store. Across from them was a music section full of cd players, CDs, and smaller music players. There were even VHS and DVD movies in here.

Mirrors had their own aisle which she dragged her friends into after she finished gawking at all the appliances that had been adapted to the wizarding world. Mirrors here were a much improved version of the not oft used one that Sirius had given Harry so long ago. They informed her about them while she explored.

Apparently, wizards here had figured out that sticking their heads into fire wasn't the most effective way to communicate when they started interacting with muggles more during the start of the war. At that time, mirrors were only used by wealthy purebloods and the creation of them was reserved for the most adept enchanters. Then Dumbledore had failed to kill Grindelwald, the war had taken off, and a squib from a pureblood family had suggested them to be the wizarding version of the radio or phone. Any cries about the break from tradition were lost under the need for fast action against Grindelwald and thus the mirror was revamped. The standard version could connect to anyone else who had a mirror with the same enchantment on them as long as you knew their name. More advanced versions could connect to anyone near a reflective surface. Pansy and Daphne indicated that the latter types of mirror where limited to those high in the war effort. Hermione's mind was spinning with the possibilities for it by the end of their explanation.

"I take it that this is something that you wished you remembered?" Daphne asked.

"Yes." Hermione compare two different pocket mirrors. They both looked like muggle compacts, but one could be miniaturized to wear around her neck. It cost 50 galleons more, but it was worth it. She superstitiously prodded both of them with her magic, examining the spell-work that had gone into them. It didn't seem too complex and she was confident that she could make her own adjustments to them.

"You do know that you already have several of these, right?" Pansy idly picked up a canary yellow mirror with moving black polka dots decorating the edges.

"But I don't remember the codes to use them." Hermione reminded her. "Plus, I want one to reflect my new style."

They accepted that without any fuss; in fact, it spurred them into action, helping her choose 'what would fit her the best.' For the most part, Hermione wanted them gone so she could concentrate on this herself, but there was a small section of her that appreciated the girl time that she had never had before. That small part of her choose to ignore the fact that she had to keep absolute control of her reflexes lest she accidentally hex Pansy.

"Want a new TV too?" Daphne asked once they'd all settled on a simple but elegant black pocket compact. Pansy had wanted Hermione to go for yellow polka dots, but Daphne had convinced her otherwise to Hermione's relief.

"I didn't see one in my room." Hermione said. Although, she hadn't been looking for one anywhere in the house so that didn't mean anything. "So it can't hurt to look."

They left the mirror aisle and a sales witch zeroed on them instantly, her eyes taking in the expensive quality of their robes. "Ladies, what can I help you with today?"

Hermione checked the witch's nametag, Bara, and opened her mouth. "Just br-"

"My friend here is looking for a new TV." Pansy cut in.

Bara's smile brightened and Hermione was sure that she was paid on commission. "Wonderful! Here at Perfect Purchases, we have a wide variety and selection of TVS, the latest from both wizarding and muggle brands."

"Muggle TVs can work in our homes?" Hermione asked.

"The muggle brands are from their wizard line, so yes." The sales witch walked towards the TV wall.

Some of the TVs were mounted on the wall, others were on stands, but most were floating. Some of the monitors were thick and others were as thin as a muggle notebook. All displayed the news channel which was talking about something happening in wizarding Lithuania.

"Is there any particular model you're interested in?" Bara asked. "I've noticed lately that young people seem to like the widescreen floater." She pointed to a silver 50 in floating TV.

Hermione hadn't planned on and still didn't plan on watching much TV, so the 50 in was a bit much for her. "I'd like something smaller. But a floater."

The sales lady nodded and moved to a group of TVs ranging from 10 to 35 ins. "Here are some of the smaller floaters. All are available in store for immediate pick-up."

"Is that the latest Dapplel?" Daphne pointed to a 25 in black TV. "The one with the new remote system?"

"Oh yes!" Bara pulled out her wand and pointed it at the TV. "The first TV ever where channels can be changed with a wand." She flicked her wand and the TV changed to a different channel. With another flick, the TV returned to the first channel. "A simple incantation that is easy to cast silently as well. iChange and whatever channel you want."

Hermione could only shake her head. She was half tempted not to buy this TV based on the company she suspected made it; just thinking about the American company… about anything to do with those Yankees…

"Are you alright?" Daphne waved a hand in front of her face.

Hermione blinked. "Yes. Just picturing it in my room."

The sales lady actually clapped her hands. "Amazing isn't it? Why don't you try to change the channel? iChange 5, if you don't mind."

"iChange 5." Hermione said as she flicked her wand how Bara had.

The TV channel changed to some sort of talk show.

"Oh! I forgot this was coming on today." Pansy stared up at the screen. "Can you turn it up?"

"Yes. iVolume whatever level you want." Bara flicked her wand. "iVolume medium high."

The screen had been silent until now, but suddenly the women and men on screen could be heard. There were six of them, three women and three men, sitting on couches facing each other, the women on one couch, and the men on the other. Hermione was guessing they were all wizarding by their robes and it was confirmed when one of the women, a woman with smooth ebony skin, flicked her wand to the large screen behind them all.

"What is this?" She asked as the screen began playing the scenes from a wizarding battle.

It looked like what she had come from, only better. The fighting was intense, but the combatants hadn't reached the desperation that marked every fight in Hermione's dimension. These combatants still had hope; still had the belief that it would all be better by the end. She could see that they still had rules in both the spells that they were using and the way they faced their adversaries.

Hermione's wand hand itched and she ached to join that battle. To be part of something that was still clean, still pure in a way that she could never be, even in her new body.

"It's Imani's special on the Battle of Latvia," Daphne said.

Hermione gave her a blank look. The woman who appeared to be the host looked familiar but not enough that Hermione could place her. She was the best dressed of all of them, wearing pale blue robes that Hermione had just seen in one of the high end fashion magazines Pansy had shown her. The woman smiled and Hermione felt that spark of familiarity again.

"Imani Johnson is Angelina Johnson's mother. This is her talk show." Daphne indicated the screen. "Today marks the fifth anniversary of the Nordic Campaign, specifically the Battle of the Bays."

"She has Generals Potter and Longbottom on," Pansy added. "And she supposedly has never before seen footage of Fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre?" That sounded interesting, Hermione guessed. "They don't film Fiendfyre a lot then? Is it in different shapes or something?"

She realized that she must have said something wrong when Pansy, Daphne, and Bara gave her disbelieving looks.

"Different shapes." Bara repeated. "She meant Klossner! You know, the general that defeated us and won the Latvia campaign?"

"Ah." Hermione said like she understood.

Daphne patted her on the back. "Don't worry if you don't remember him," then to Bara, "our friend is recovering from something that left her with amnesia."

Bara covered her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just that, everybody knows who Fiendfyre is. He's almost as hated as Grindelwald."

"Believe me," Pansy said with such malice that Hermione was reminded of her counterpart. "Some people hate him more."

Asking 'why' seemed wrong somehow, so Hermione turned her attention back to the TV. The screen on the show was now showing acres of scorched land.

"-and nothing can grow there now," Imani was saying. "Isn't that right?"

The pale redhead woman on her left nodded. The woman was strangely familiar to Hermione and she didn't know why until the woman faced the camera and Harry's eyes stared at her.

"You were there, weren't you General Potter?" Imani asked the redhead.

Hermione blinked. Suddenly she could pick out more of Harry's features in the redhead's face; his cheekbones, the shape of his mouth, his forehead. She kept control of her emotions by a hairsbreadth.

_General Lily Potter, Phoenix Army _was broadcast on the bottom of the screen as the camera focused on the woman.

"Yes, Imani." Lily Potter said. "This was our part of the strategy, meet the enemy head on to divert their attention. We knew to expect fire, but not to that degree."

Imani nodded. "Even the great Albus Dumbledore has said that his mastery of fire pales in comparison."

"I haven't seen Albus's fire work so I can't compare, but Klossner well deserves his nickname." Lily said. "It's a miracle that any of us survived."

"We could see the flames from where we were stationed." The blonde olive-skinned woman on Imani's right added. "It looked like half of Rezekne was on fire."

Imani smiled. "And is that when you decided to abandon the strategy and make your own?"

The blonde woman shook her head. "I never abandoned the strategy. Our plan was to attack from all sides and we did. I just sped up the time table. Enough of our comrades had already been burned and I didn't want that number to go up."

Imani put a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "And you saw to it that it didn't."

"I did what anyone would have done." The blonde shrugged. "We couldn't afford to lose Lily or any of our people."

"Is it true that you led the charge yourself?" Imani asked. "How does that song go? Through flames of the fiend, the pure stay strong, and Longbottom rides on?"

The blonde blushed. Hermione's eyebrows rose. "I still can't believe they made songs about that."

_General Alicia Longbottom, Phoenix Army_ appeared on the screen under the blonde witch.

Hermione could only shake her head. Neville's mother looked almost nothing like him save for the shape of their cheeks.

Lily laughed. "At least you get to be the savior in all of them."

"Name one song where you're the damsel." Alicia challenged.

Lily paused and they all laughed when she shrugged her shoulders a few seconds later. "I can't think of one now, but I know there are."

"Not many, Lily, not many." Imani chuckled. "I must admit that my favorite is 'The Goddess Ascends'."

The redhead witch groaned. "Please don't mention that one. James never lets me forget about that."

Everyone laughed again.

"So," Imani began when they were quiet again. "Tell us what was going through your minds when you faced Klossner."

Lily and Alicia looked at each other and Lily nodded.

"I guess I'll go first," Lily said. "I was kind of in shock. We were gaining ground, and I was just beginning to think that this would be easier that I'd thought, when he apparates in and starts throwing flames everywhere. At first, I thought it was a distraction, because no one ever uses fire considering how easy it is to ward against and dispel. But then the normal spells didn't work and I have Fletcher yelling that it's fiendfyre." She shook her head. "I thought that that had to be wrong. You can't control fiendfyre and no one in Grindelwald's army is crazy enough to cast something that would hurt their army too. Then I saw that he was controlling it. I had a few minutes of shock and then I immediately started changing our attack patterns and sent a Patronus off to Alicia."

Alicia nodded. "I got Lily's message after I saw the flames, but hearing it still didn't prepare me for seeing him controlling the fire. It was unreal. I think it still rates as one of the worst battle experiences."

"Yes," Imani flicked her wand and a statistic appeared on the screen. "Seeing Klossner wielding fiendfyre is ranked number one as the worst thing ever encountered in battle, beating out Grindelwald, Headmaster Dumbledore, and the Hogsmeade massacre."

"Having seen all of them, I can believe that." Lily affirmed.

"Speaking of seeing," Imani smiled at the camera. "I have something that I know they've been waiting for."

The audience applauded.

"And here you are for waiting so patiently." She flicked her wand.

The screen in the back changed again. The battle was back, but a man stood out, a man with long red hair and crimson robes, who was bathed in fire. His side, the wizards and witches in blue robes, rushed to get out of his path, but he moved as if he had no care in the world, throwing fire at the Phoenix army with both his wand and his empty hand.

Hermione could only marvel at the power and control he wielded. Animals of all kinds attacked at his command, birds with huge wingspans, large cats, wolves, and snakes, all made of writhing flames. The fire only touched those in his enemy's army and the land that he walked on. Within a minute, he'd pushed back the line of battle several feet and was only going further. The video ended then.

Imani faced her viewers again. "This wasn't from the Nordic campaign, but this is what the generals faced. Considering that, I find your victory all the more impressive."

"So they won." Hermione mused.

"It was amazing." Pansy gushed. "That's why they call them the Miracle Pair. They have never lost any battle that they were at together."

"Poor dear," Bara said. "You must have forgotten a lot."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the saleslady. That was why it was called amnesia. "Yes. I'm horribly out of date with current events and history, which is part of the reason I want a TV."

Pansy giggled. "She doesn't even remember where the one in her rooms is."

The pity in Bara's eyes made Hermione want to punch someone. Namely Pansy.

Daphne studiously avoided looking at her. "So did you want this TV?"

"Yes." Hermione glanced back at the program. The men were speaking now on some other aspect of the campaign. Hermione's enjoyment of it was gone though.

Bara finished the sales process at a quick rate, ushering them to the cash register, getting her the box, and even specially shrinking it for her because 'the metal pieces inside were too delicate for the normal shrinking spell.'

Hermione walked out of the store with a new mirror, a new TV, and a new target. Klossner.

"So, why hasn't Dumbledore taken Klossner out?" Hermione asked as they navigated the crowded street. "If he inspires more fear than Grindelwald, it seems like that move wo-"

"Are you serious?" Pansy stopped, forcing them to as well. "Fiendfyre can't be touched. Almost everybody who goes against him dies or loses horribly. That's why General Potter and General Longbottom are called the Miracle Pair. Because them not only living, but winning can't be anything but some god intervening directly into their affairs."

That was a little too close to the whole 'Chosen One' claptrap mythology surrounding Harry for Hermione to take it that seriously.

"Look it up." Daphne advised. "If Dumbledore could have done it already, he would have taken him out."

Her first instinct was to snort, but Hermione had gotten good at controlling her first instincts so she nodded instead. She had to remind herself about how different this place was. In this dimension, Dumbledore might not be holding back to place the world's future in the hands of a group of unprepared schoolchildren. She would reserve judgment until after she met him.

They went their separate ways. Daphne was still working on her Order assignment, Pansy was preparing for the one that she was about to get, and Hermione wanted to start organizing her library and reviewing the class material that she'd missed. She was also very interested in seeing the theory and spells behind Technomancy. If it was what mostly what she'd seen in the store, she'd be fine in the class.

She waved to her friends and made her way back to the apparition point. A squawk caught her attention and she looked up. It was some sort of tropical bird with bright red, green, and orange plumage and a pink head crest; a brown package was in its talons. Her first thought was that she'd be able to get at least three meals out of it. Her next was that it was a horrid choice for a delivery animal.

Even as these thoughts ran through her mind, her wand rose automatically, a sniping curse on her lips, and she had to pull her arm down with her other hand. It wasn't her business to teach others of their folly no matter how much she wanted to and she had plenty of food at home.

Hermione gazed into the sky after it. With a few more beats of its wings, the bird disappeared behind some clouds. Odd greyish bluish wispy clouds that were very familiar to her.

On first glance they looked like cirrus but she knew better. She mumbled the true seeing spell under her breath, trusting the high saturation of magic here to hide the illegal fae spell. Her sight sharpened and she could see the magic in the area as well as she felt it. The clouds now resembled shattered pieces of blackness, as if a void was falling apart. She sighed. This was one of the few outward manifestations of the End Results. The dimension's early warning system. If only she and Albus had understood what they meant sooner, then their own dimension might have been salvageable.

Suddenly her shopping trip seemed even more frivolous than she thought it. Voldemort might not be a threat here, but it was clear that Grindelwald was on his way to become just as bad and she didn't have time to waste. The logical part of her brain pointed out that this excursion wasn't frivolous as she had gained important information, but Hermione had a hard time reconciling that with the menace heralded in the sky. That, and she had a hard time remembering the last time she'd completed any sort of assignment without some spilling of blood.

When she apparated back to her new abode, her house elf told her that she was the only one home and that dinner would be served in her sun room. Hermione shook her head, first day back from the hospital and already she was eating dinner alone. Maybe her worries about her mother getting in her way had been premature.

It was a real pleasure to organize her library further and put her own books on the shelves and it brought her out of the melancholy the dark haze in the sky had put her into. Once she'd arranged the books to her liking, she put a charm on them that would obscure some of the more Dark titles. She also placed a spell on them that would allow her to call her books back to the library were anyone to remove them without her permission. Hermione then went out into her wing and put her own protective and warding spells over the ones already there. When she was through, no one would be able to get in or eavesdrop without her knowing.

The door to what she was going to just call her planning room, the laboratory and recreation room, was next to her library but that was still too far to walk for Hermione. She created an adjoining door between what she was sure were going to be her favorite rooms in the house.

After dithering between which room she wanted it in, she decided to start the TV off in the recreation room. The manual that came with the TV was informative; the TV wasn't restricted to just one room, but could float within a maximum range of 50 ft so she could bring it to whatever room in her wing she wanted. She turned it on and was relieved when it came on to wizarding cable without her having to hook anything up. The channels were similar to muggle ones with news programs to kids channels to music channels; there was even a soap opera called As The Crystal Ball Turns. Interestingly enough, there were also muggle channels.

Hermione smiled when she changed it to a station her father used to watch. Her smiled died when she remembered what had happened to her father. She abruptly turned from the TV and moved to complete her self assigned tasks.

The laboratory was fully stocked though a layer of dust inside the cabinets showed that house elves weren't that thorough and that she hadn't used it in years. That was about to change. Hermione hadn't gone anywhere without her emergency potions supply and she wasn't about to do so here.

When she was finished setting up the recreation side for any dueling or drilling she might want to do, she pulled out four cauldrons and prepped them. After taking out all the ingredients she needed, she set to work. An hour later, she had Blood replenishing potion, dreamless sleep potion, a burn cream, and skele-grow simmering in various stages of readiness. Once she put the necessary stasis charms on them, she went back into her library to research. And although she was interested in more about Klossner and the Miracle Pair, she decided to start at the beginning.

This dimension seemed to have diverged from hers during Albus's time with Grindelwald. After the point where they met and his sister died, something happened that made events that she remembered reading about in her dimension either happen differently or not happen at all.

Because of this ripple of difference, there had been a huge scandal when the heir of a powerful pureblood family had been given to his muggleborn mother's relatives to raise after his parents had died. His father's relatives and his family's wizarding friends had been furious but the family had not left a will. They were killed in a car accident by a drunk driver so the child went to the muggle system first and the mother's brother had got automatic custody of the child in the muggle world. The muggle brother was also aware of magic so the Wizengamot didn't step in until the father's family took the muggle to court. The father's family won and a law had been passed that required any orphans with magical powers to be raised by either wizarding relatives or a wizarding guardian regardless of muggle relatives or guardians that might also be available. This law would come to be known as the Orphan act. The muggleborn clause was added to ensure that muggleborn orphans also grew up in the wizarding world as well.

This act and the clause meant that Tom Marvolo Riddle was probably raised in a wizarding home by two parents as soon as he showed up on the Hogwarts roll. If his powers were anything here like they were in the other world, he could have appeared on the roll anywhere from one to five and spent his formative years with people who cared about him.

Hermione sat back in her chair, wondering if she'd just found the answer to the question of nature versus nurture. Since he hadn't grown up unloved and unwanted, he'd never formed an unnatural hatred of muggleborns and never became Voldemort. If it was his nature, he would have done it anyway, Grindelwald or not.

Of course, that was if Voldemort even existed in this dimension at all.

The rest of history changed even further from her own as she read on. Since there was no Voldemort, there was no cursing of the DODA position. Since Grindelwald was never defeated, refugees continued to pour into Britain from all over Europe and parts of Asia until it was forced to expand its wizarding settlements. There were four all wizarding villages in England not including Diagon Alley, three in Ireland, and two in Scotland. They were more global because Grindelwald threatened everyone, Europe, Asia, and Africa. The only continents not on hyper alert were North and South America.

Like always, Hermione thought, her grip tightening as she remembered the Yanks in her own dimension. They had only been trying to survive too, but still, after all Harry had done and continued to do for them…

She pulled herself back to her current research.

Grindelwald had thousands more followers than Voldemort had at his peak before the immortality obsessed fiend had started killing them off too. Grindelwald also controlled much of Russia and the Baltic states, wizard and muggle. Durmstrang was still open and under round the clock guard by the Coalition of Countries Against Grindelwald (CCAG). Both that school and Beauxbatons had been occupied at one time, but the CCAG had routed him each time. Grindelwald had never been able penetrate Hogwarts's defenses though he'd tried several times over the years.

As Hermione read more about the greatest threat to humankind, she couldn't help but appreciate Grindelwald. Here was an insane megalomaniac that she could deal with: no false claims of godhood, aspirations to immortality, or party line that actively excluded himself. Fifty years into his reign and he was still operating as smoothly as he had in the beginning, no descent into madness for Gellert or soul splitting or flesh eating zombies. Just a slogan that a lot of wizards could identify with and a militaristic and a slightly legend based way to achieve his goal. It would be nice to deal with enemies who weren't completely insane, enemies who operated on logic.

The wizard had done what Voldemort hadn't and was actually ruling both wizards and muggles in the type of caste system his plan called for without excessive deaths or terror. She was sure that the muggles who were wizard's slaves in wouldn't agree with her but if they had seen what she had seen then they'd know that they had it easy. The worst things they had to worry about were enslavement or death. In the countries Grindelwald reigned in, they actually operated much the way they had before with the exception of the breach of the statute of secrecy. This was the reason that Technomancy was now a subject.

Muggles in the military around the world now knew about wizards and had chosen to ally with them after they'd witnessed how easily Grindelwald had defeated their weapons in those countries. Wizards in turn had chosen to ally with these muggles because they had witnessed what muggle weaponry was capable of. Both sides were only in it to keep the other from attacking but it explained why Muggle Studies was required here. It also, in a way, explained the influx of muggle technology.

Hermione wrote her battle plans with a smile. She would just assassinate a few key figures at first, to test out the way Grindelwald operated, and if Albus didn't take the opening to deal with Grindelwald himself, she would.

And if the hazy mist didn't leave the sky after that, if the void didn't disappear, she'd find and kill Riddle if he existed. She bit the edge of her quill. Perhaps she should kill Riddle anyway, just to be sure. Hermione tentatively wrote that in.

Hopefully, it wouldn't take much to get Albus into gear; the Albus in her dimension had emphasized letting the natural inhabitants do as much of the work as possible to diminish the possibility of a backlash. Plus, the more behind the scenes she was, the more likely she'd be able to have a normal life after all of this. She didn't let herself dwell on it, but the hope that she could be something close to normal seized her.

The feeling of energy closing in behind her pulled her out of her thoughts and she turned and fired when it solidified; her stunner sent the house elf flying into her bookcase. She re-enervated it after she charmed her research to look like doodling about makeup and fashion to anyone who tried to read or look at it.

"Sorry for that." Hermione said. "I wasn't expecting you."

It cringed away from her and wrung its hands in the dirty towel it was wearing. "No! Wooky is sorry mistress! Wooky is bad elf for startling you. Wooky deserves to be punished."

"No! No, Wooky." The small bug eyed flop eared creature before her did not fit the image that name brought up in her. "No more punishment. Just don't tell anyone I did it. You can take the rest of the day off."

Wooky's eyes widened so much she was afraid his eyes would fall out of their sockets. "NO! NO! Wooky is a good elf! Wooky is sorry! Do not punish Wooky like that!"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her head. She had forgotten how brainwashed house elves were (but she knew how good they tasted roasted with ginger ale).

"Fine, don't take the day off. Just keep silent on what happened." She waved her hand. "Why did you come?"

Wooky had calmed down now that she wasn't trying to give him a vacation. "Mistress's dinner is ready in the sun room."

"Thank you, Wooky." Hermione left her notes as they were, grabbed a book, and headed off to eat.

The food was delicious and she once again had to force herself to eat slowly, though she knew that she was still shoveling it in more rapidly than was considered lady like. Once she'd sated the worse of her appetite, she opened her book and read about Technomancy until it was time to check on her potions.

O O O

The three days later, a more specialized Healer paid a home visit, did more tests, and told her the same thing Healer Dremson had the day she woke up. She had permanent mental scarring and he was sure that she would never remember her past. Her mother cried again; her father was out on business. Her mother didn't say what exactly his business was so Hermione didn't know if he was doing something for the war effort or busy running some sort of international corporation.

And it was infuriating that all of the books on the war and Grindelwald failed to go into detail exactly who the Generals of the 'light' side were beyond what battles they had participated in. She knew her father was one, and she knew that he had participated in three major campaigns and been crucial to victory in the Durmstrang campaign, but that was it.

Carmina refused to go into detail about anything. If Hermione didn't occasionally look up and catch her mother in this dimension staring at her like Hermione was some precious gift that would disappear at any moment, she would think that woman was putting on a masterful act.

After the latest frustrating conversation with her mother, Hermione spent much of the day in her rooms as she had her previous days, brewing the potions she needed and planning on which of Grindelwald's generals she was going to kill first. She was torn between two: Gustav Klossner, who research had said was supposed to even be able to control phoenixes and had an army of dragons, and the general known simply as the Rock, a wizard who had never given up a position or lost a battle and was an important foundation of their organization.

The death of either of them would be a blow to Grindelwald, but she wanted to deal a blow that would hurt his entire war effort and show that none of his generals were safe, that he wasn't safe.

She ran her hand through her curly hair (it wasn't bushy, but it was definitely not the waves that she had woken up here with) and tapped her quill against the table. She wanted to get this done quickly; the sooner she did this, the sooner she could possibly relax and enjoy being a teenager with a bright future ahead of her.

"Bright future." Hermione snorted at her musings.

With the grades this Hermione had gotten, the only bright future she had was a good marriage because the only jobs she was fit for did not require thinking. Hermione shuddered in disgust as she remembered the mass of Ts that were on almost every assignment that she'd seen; there was only one E and that was in Divination for the predicting the future chart. The only class she wasn't currently failing was Muggle Studies and she was only a few points above the passing grade.

What confused her though, was that she'd found a journal full of complicated arithmantic equations and brilliant potions suggestions in her dresser. It was something that she would have written at this age and completely at odds with the bimbo image that she'd gotten from this Hermione before. Then she'd realized that all the recipes and directions were for make-up. Longer-lasting lip gloss, lipstick that didn't smudge, eye liner that changed color with your mood, foundation that automatically changed to match your skin tone, the list went on and on.

After a lot of puzzlement, especially when she was successful in making the foundation and it worked (the worst it could have done was scar her face and that would only make her more recognizable to herself), Hermione finally decided that it was another case of nature versus nurture. Her nature was probably similar in both dimensions, but since here she'd never had the same desire to prove herself and she was spoiled, she'd never been as studious or equated success with getting good grades and had just cruised along. This dimension's Hermione's journal showed that if she'd applied herself she would have been just as book smart as Hermione. That was their nature.

Hermione finished brewing her first batch of potions, when she heard tapping on her window. Wand out, she walked to the window and gasped when she saw the brown barn owl waiting there. How long had it been since she'd seen an owl, a live owl? She opened the window and reached out to touch it, but it leaned away and held out its leg. She was tempted to stun it and pet it, but she held her desires in check, besides, her mother had mentioned that she had her own owl in the post room. It left the moment she took the letter without even begging for a treat.

She watched it soar away, high and free in the light blue sky through the damnable hazy mist, and really looked at the grounds as the nature they were. They were lush and green. She could feel the energy of the different living things as one healthy and fertile mass. The trees held their own innate magic as did the animals and the insects. The lake of merpeople was the biggest concentration outside the forest and their energy was much different from the merpeople in Hogwarts Lake.

Everything was so happy and vital and while the wizards here weren't in perfect commune with nature here, they did have a healthy relationship, not stifling it or perverting it. She could hear birds singing.

Hermione resolved to do whatever it took to keep things this way, took this as another sign of the rightness of her mission.

A sound from the forest caught her attention and she zeroed in on a specific energy, a merman. She felt him before she saw him and once she did see him, his head thrown back with laughter, dark blue hair cascading down his well-defined back to his tight butt, her mouth dropped. He was nude and feet away from the lake that was his home, standing with legs. His body was perfection even if it was green tinged and when he turned as if sensing her regard, she couldn't help but noting that it was perfectly proportioned in _every_ way. His slightly overlarge eyes zeroed in on her, their cerulean and silver color not one found in humans.

She blushed and looked away, marveling at her ability to feel abashed after everything she'd been through. Sex was just another weapon after all. "Sorry!" She called.

"For what?" His accent made his words harsh and grating though she knew he would sound like the sweetest song underwater.

She looked back and kept her eyes on his amused face which was gorgeous despite his inhuman differences. "For staring at you." Her blush was gone now and her voice didn't waver.

He shook his head. "You apologize now, why? When no apology falls from your lips before?"

Hermione didn't know how to answer that since she wasn't sure how he would interpret a shrug. Merpeople were proud creatures and they never forgot a snub no matter how slight. There were tales of them pulling people to their watery graves decades or centuries after the insult was dealt, they could trace the blood and they held everyone in the bloodline accountable, nephew or great great great granddaughter.

"I'm different now." She called back, hoping he would sense the truth of her words. That he was walking on the ground without any obvious aid meant that he was powerful.

He walked closer to the house and met her eyes. She allowed him to penetrate her mind long enough to feel her embarrassment and contrition at her actions then shut him out. He blinked, the first time since she'd seen him.

"You truly are different." There was no inflection to his voice. "I accept this apology, Hermione of the Castells. I will see you at the lake before you go to Hogwarts."

"Sure." Hermione wasn't sure she liked the calculating glint in his eyes, but it would not do well to upset him. While she knew she would win in a fight between them, the aftereffects wouldn't be worth it. "Who should I ask for?"

A small smile lifted his lips and revealed pointed teeth. "Very different. Your sire was warned, I hope he enjoys what he has sowed." With that, he nodded to her and turned.

"Wait!" Hermione yelled. "My father was warned about what?"

He walked away into the woods.

"Great, more unanswered questions." Hermione shut the window in disgust. Clearly the merpeople knew about what had happened to put her in a coma and, like everyone else who knew something, were not telling her anything. Her mother had no idea how close that Hermione had come to using Legilimency to the information out of her every time the woman had told her not to 'worry about what had happened and just focus on getting better'. The only reason she hadn't was that Carmine had extremely impressive shields so Hermione wouldn't be able to hide her intrusion and it was too early to reveal her hand. She hadn't seen Apollonius since he'd dropped her off from the hospital.

She transfigured one of the stools into another table since hers were filled with potions and dropped the letter onto it. There was no official seal, just her first name written in plain letters. None of her spells detected anything magical or otherwise attached to the letter, but she still opened it with magic. Nothing happened when she summoned the letter from the envelope and held it hovering in front of her. The letter was written in the same plain writing as before, a few short sentences that made no sense to her.

_Hermione,_

_I understand that you've woken up. Do not think that we were finished. We will never be finished. I will see you soon. _

There was no signature and Hermione didn't recognize the writing. It seemed that there was some sort of intrigue going on. The sender of the letter would get a nasty surprise if he or she tried anything. She memorized the letter then sent it into the fire under her closest cauldron and watched it burn. If the owl hadn't flew off so quickly, she could have sent a letter back with an undetectable curse attached to it, one that would take care of the problem and let her know who'd she'd taken care of. In this dimension she was going to have to keep track of names.

However, she didn't know who this person was, so she would just have to be on the lookout while she completed her purpose. That thought in mind, she turned back to her potions. A few of them, she would have to bring back with her to Hogwarts to finish, but she was sure that she'd find somewhere to brew them. The divergence shouldn't have affected the creation of Hogwarts so the Room of Requirement would be fine.

As she stirred one of the potions counter clockwise, she thought about the homework she'd completed. All of it had been ridiculously easy for her with concepts that she'd known since her third year. Either she was in Newt classes in-name only, or the onset of the war in her dimension had advanced her and her peers levels beyond what they should have been. She was almost tempted to keep up the bimbo act so she would have more time to concentrate on her private studies, but she dismissed that idea because a part of her rebelled at the idea of not turning in perfect assignments.

Her professors were going to be shocked though. Snape had stopped correcting her essays sometime during third year and just wrote recriminations about her intelligence and potions skills. For the last potions' 'essay' this dimension's Hermione had written, Hermione would have shot herself before turning in the hot mess that it was, Snape had written 'Why Merlin? Why?' on the top and 'Endurance for Dunderheads lost now' five inches down and not written anything else. McGonagall didn't correct her papers either, she just made suggestions that she should convince her father to move her out of her class. Her other professors still corrected her although she could read the exasperation in each red mark.

Her potion started bubbling and she refocused on it. It would increase her heat resistance and she needed it for Klossner. She wasn't planning on any one on one dueling with him, but considering that his fortress was guarded by dragons and a supposedly impenetrable wall of fiendfyre, she would need as much aid against fire and burns as she could get. Luckily for her, she was well-versed in the world of fire. (It was one of the few things that could kill _them_ and it was one of the only ways to complete a kill. Voldemort had never succeeded in reforming ashes.)

And being Hermione, knowing about fire also meant knowing about how to treat flame related injuries. She knew burn salves, potions that reduced heat, and cooling charms, hexes, and curses. She'd even learned how to transfigure fire into a gas state.

If her plan worked, none of that would be necessary because she wouldn't get caught, but she never did anything without a failsafe. No, acting without a failsafe would be foolish and that was not a word that had ever been used to describe Hermione Granger.

* * *

><p>AN 2: Sorry for the long wait. Real life is just now letting me come back. Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think.


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